Of Angels and Pirates
by Lady Shadiait
Summary: I am an angel from God, assigned to Will Turner. The problem? He doesn't trust me. Rated to be safe. Chapter twenty up. FINALLY.
1. Seeing, but not Believing

This story features the same angel, but is not related to the first story. Meaning: she doesn't have any knowledge of the first story.

Sheba (Victoria) is my character, but the others are not. Disney owns Will Turner, Jack Sparrow, etc.

The idea for this story is credit to Morph, and her stories "Nightcrawler Spirit", "Sparrow Spirit", and "Skinner Spirit".

OF ANGELS AND PIRATES

I strolled calmly through the streets of Port Royal, killing time before I had to meet my next job. I knew his name, I knew who his father had been, I knew what I could say to win his confidence, and I knew that before the day was out he'd end up dueling with a pirate. Everything else about his future was as uncertain to me as it was to him.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, and then realized, even though I was invisible to everyone else, he'd be able to see me. Jeans didn't fit in. "Me thinks I need a change of costume," I remarked. I found a quiet corner and looked heavenward. "Father, I need a little help. Nothing big, but we do need him to trust me." I felt a strange tingle against my skin, and looked at my clothes.

I was dressed in a loose tan shirt and black leggings, high leather boots, and a leather matching hat cocked at a strange angle on my head. A thick belt went around my waist. I looked like a pirate, but I needed for the time being, to look like a lady. Suddenly, as the thought went through my mind, the first layer of clothing was covered by a second layer. A blue dress so long it dragged on the ground, the leather hat gone for a hat matching my dress pinned to my upswept raven hair.

"My thanks, Father." I whispered in prayer. Then I lifted myself up into the air and over the rooftops. I saw Will leaving the blacksmith shop where he was apprenticed, and heading for the governor's mansion. His name was William Turner. His father had been William Turner as well, but had been known as 'Bootstrap Bill'. Will was as much pirate as I was angel.

I glided over, and set myself down noiselessly beside him.

"Good Morning, Will," I said cheerfully. He turned to look at me.

"Good morning, Miss," he returned cordially, then, obviously confused at how I knew his name, "have we met?"

"No, actually."

"Well, how do you know my name, Miss…?"

I cringed; I didn't have a name, my mind raced as I grabbed for one, "Sheba, but not 'Miss', just Sheba." I smiled, "And I know your name because… I'm an angel, Will, from God." as I spoke, I sent up a soft glow around myself. His expression said he didn't believe me, I hadn't figured that Will Turner was the sort of man who believed in God, anyway.

Will looked hard at me, his expression seemed to say: _are you mad, or am I mad?_ "You're the only one who can see me, Will. I am visible to your eyes and ears only. But you can't tell anyone about me."

"And why not?"

"Because if you do, I'll get called home too early, and there'll be no one to watch over you," I paused for a moment, "and Elizabeth."

No sooner had I spoken then Will had me pinned up against a tree by the throat, my feet off the ground. It didn't matter really, as I didn't need to breathe. "What do you know about Miss Swann?" he demanded sharply.

"I know that she found you in the water when you were young, and that you've loved her every day since. I know that you'd do anything for her. And I know that soon she'll be in trouble, and you'll be the only one able to save her. But you'll need my help, Will, so please put me down."

He complied and lowered me to my feet. "You had better be telling the truth."

"Will, I'm an angel, I don't lie." He nodded and continued walking, I kept pace easily. _That went well_, I thought, _he doesn't trust me, and it's obvious. But I prove it to him, somehow._


	2. A woman scorned

Will's trust in Sheba seems to be growing, but Elizabeth's trust and admiration for Will doesn't.

Please review.

* * *

We approached the governor's mansion, stride in stride. Will was protectively clutching the long, slender box containing the sword I knew he'd made himself. I smiled, _an artist unappreciated in his own time, _I thought.

Will was quiet, and I noticed he kept shooting glances at me, as if he expected me to turn on him at any moment. Well, he probably did. "You don't trust me, Will." I noticed, sounding slightly hurt.

"Yes, well, it's hard to trust someone mad enough to call themselves an angel."

"What can I do to prove myself?" without even waiting for an answer, I lift myself up off the ground, hovering a few meters up. I come back down gently. "You'll get used to me. I will eventually leave you, so don't worry about enduring my presence for the rest of your existence."

He smiled genuinely, "I don't mind your presence so much, Sheba. You're very…comforting."

I nodded my thanks, and we arrived at the door of the mansion. Will brushed back his already immaculate hair, and straightened his clothes. Then he knocked on the door, it was opened by a manservant in livery with a deeply wrinkled face, "Yes, Sir?"

"Will Turner, I am here with Governor Swann's order."

"Very well, Sir. Come in." Will entered and I slipped in quietly behind him, pulling my skirts with me. I was impatiently waiting for the correct moment to remove this awkward dress. We stood side by side in the great hall of the mansion. Will gazed respectively around at the décor, pretending to be aptly fascinated in the curtains until the manservant left us. Then he turned sharply to me.

"He didn't even see you."

"I told you," I answer meekly, "your eyes and ears only, William Turner. Only you can see and hear me. So you had better be careful where you are when you speak to me. We wouldn't want people to hear you talking to 'yourself' and think you truly mad." I offered up a teasing smile.

Will grinned, "all right, you'll be with me for how long, though?"

"As long as I'm needed; the next few days at any rate." It was then that suddenly the manservant appeared again out of somewhere. Will clammed up and went back to pretending to admire the décor. He switched arms idly with the box. I glared at the manservant until he left again.

"You see what I mean?" I asked Will, who was interested, for real, in a decorative candle holder. He reached up to examine one of its three protruding arms, and it broke off in his hand with a loud clanking noise. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing at his expense. Will looked around to see what could be done about it. For a second he seemed to be contemplating hiding it in his pocket.

"Put it in the umbrella stand," I urged him, "quickly!" Will put it inside hastily and it rattled loudly as it fell down the metal container. It was at that point that another of the servants, this one baring tea, came through. Will quickly straightened, and clear his throat. He nodded to the man as he went by. Will glanced, embarrassed, at me. I smiled, and squeezed his wrist. "Could be worse," I pointed out, "he could have come through to see you trying to stuff it in your pocket."

Will chuckled at that, and it was just then that Governor Swann came down the stairs, wig and all. "Oh, Mr. Turner, Good to see you again," he remarked. Will forced a pleasant smile.

"Good day, Sir. I have your order." He set down the long box he'd been carrying and opened it, gently removing the sword he'd crafted.

"Well," the governor chuckled, as he pulled it from its sheath.

"The blade is folded steel," Will told him, trying very hard not to sound like he was bragging, "that's gold filigree inlayed into the handle." He held out his hands, "if I may…" the governor relinquished the sword to him.

Will balanced it on his fingers, "perfectly balanced, the tang is nearly the full width of the blade." He flipped the sword up into the air and caught it with a great amount of show; then offered it, hilt first, to the governor, who laughed slightly.

"Impressive, very impressive," I saw Will beam happily. "Now, now," the Governor said, talking more to himself, "Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this." Then to Will he added, "Do pass my compliments on to your master."

I made a slight sound of disgust. Will looked more than slightly hurt.

"I shall," Will assured him, "A craftsman is always glad to hear his work is appreciated."

"You're under appreciated," I whispered to him. He smiled and nodded his thanks slightly.

It was then that Elizabeth appeared on the stairs in her corseted dress. Seeing how stiff and uncomfortable she looked, I pressed a hand to my middle and felt thankful I didn't need to wear one. "Elizabeth," the governor exclaimed, "you look absolutely stunning."

Elizabeth didn't seem to hear her father, "Will!" she exclaimed and came down the stairs as fast as she could.

I saw the color start to rise in Will's cheeks. "Be a gentleman," I advised. He shot me a look that quite plainly said: _'have no fear I won't'_.

"It's so good to see you," Elizabeth gushed, "I had a dream about you last night!"

"About me?" Will faltered. I put a hand on his shoulder blade and pushed him ever so gently closer to her.

"Elizabeth," Governor Swann interrupted, "is that entirely proper for you to…"

"About the day we met, do you remember?" she continued, cutting her father off.

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" Will replied politely; I smiled.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

"There now," Governor Swann cut in, "at least the boy has a sense of propriety." Elizabeth looked hurt and angry. "Now," the governor continued, "we really must be going."

Will, having realized his mistake, gave Elizabeth a look that said, _that wasn't what you wanted me to say, was it?_

"Good day, Mister Turner," Elizabeth said curtly, giving him a sharp look. I though to myself,_ if looks could kill…._

Elizabeth swept out of the house accompanied by her father and several servants in livery. She held her head high, not once even so much as glancing over her shoulder at Will, who fought to catch up to her.

"Good day," he called after her, watching as she got into a coach alongside her father. "Elizabeth."

Whether she heard him or not, I don't know, but she turned in the coach and looked back at him. Her expression seemed to contain hurt, confusion, and a sort of hope. I knew that she wanted Will to return the affections she kept offering him.

Will stood on the doorstep as the coach rattled out the front gate. He stared after the coach, and the woman I knew he loved.


	3. Witnessing

"I do not understand her," Will lamented to me as we walked back to the smithy. "Every time I think I've figured her out, she changes somehow. Women, in general, are a puzzle to me, an intriguing puzzle, however."

I smiled, how many times had young men I'd accompanied told me of their struggles with the women they loved? I gave Will the same response I'd given all the others, "wait and see, Will. You'll figure it out, with time."

"I hope so."

We were walking along the docks idly, when I heard a commotion from below us. "Will," I asked, grabbing his shoulder, "do you hear that?"

He stopped and listened, "Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, recognizing one of the voices. We both ran to the edge of the dock, and, kneeling, took in the scene below.

Elizabeth was in her undergarments, wrapped in her father's coat. Her corset lay on the docks, having been cut off. Her dress was nowhere to been seen. A pirate with long beaded braids stood surrounded by guards. He was dripping wet, as was Elizabeth. One of the guards had the unfortunate pirate by the arm, he was examining his wrist, "Had a brush with the East India trading company, did we, pirate?" he questioned sarcastically. I felt a disdain for this pompous, self-righteous seeming man.

"Hang Him!" Governor Swann said quickly.

"Keep your guns on him, men," the pompous soldier ordered, "Gillette, fetch some irons." He pulled the pirate's sleeve higher up, "well, well, Jack Sparrow isn't it?"

At the name, I suddenly saw, in my mind not only what had taken place before we arrived between Jack and Elizabeth, but what would happen in the next couple of minutes. I also realized this was the pirate I had been told Will would meet up with at the Smithy. In this reverie, I zoned out the next bit of conversation exchanged. I came to my senses as I heard the pompous soldier determine, "you are, without a doubt, the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you have heard of me," Jack Sparrow pointed out. I laughed slightly, _that's the way, Cap'n_. I already liked the scallywag pirate.

"Pirates deserve to be hung," Will informed me.

"Do they now?" I questioned, looking at him. He was kneeling beside me, leaning over to see every detail of the happenings below. "Will, if you lean over any farther, you'll fall over the side."

"Well, at least I'll make a grand entrance," Will joked.

The scene was on the move, shifting down the dock, Will and I moved along the top dock to keep up with it.

Jack Sparrow looped his chains around Elizabeth's throat, and pulled her close. We could no longer hear what they were saying, but I assumed it was of some sinister nature. The soldiers relinquished his possessions to Elizabeth, and Jack quickly had his pistol pointed at her head.

"No!" Will exclaimed, leaping to his feet. He was ready to jump down from the dock, to try and intervene.

"Will, no!" I grabbed one shoulder with both hands to hold him back. "Don't! It'll make matters worse!"

"But Elizabeth…"

"Elizabeth's fine, Will, there are a dozen guards down there. Sparrow would be a fool to try anything," I prayed that I wasn't about to make a lair of myself.

Will gave the pirate a murderous glare, "if our paths ever cross in the future, Jack Sparrow, you will not live to see the next sunrise." With this oath, he turned and stalked off.

Suddenly gunfire erupted, we both turned to see Jack Sparrow swinging from a pulley as the King's Navy tried to shoot him. "What a bunch of terrible shots," I remarked, and, to my surprise, Will nodded.

"Pirate or not, I will give him credit for being a cunning devil. However, the Navy is not hard to outwit." We both smiled.

"Won't your 'master' be expecting you?"

"Probably not, he drinks, and then sleeps all day. I do the lion's share of the work. That's how I have acquired my skills," there was a pause, "if it's not to bold to say." I could hear the implied _to an angel_.

"Certainly not, I think you have a lot of skill."

"Thank-you."

"Tell me, Sheba, would God send a pirate an angel?"

It took everything I had to keep both a strait face and a level voice as I casually replied, "oh, I would think so. Pirates have souls too, after all."

"They hide them well."

"Hmmm, perhaps."


	4. Crossing Blades With A Pirate

For the rest of the conversation we shared on our way to the smithy, Will and I argued whether or not it was possible to be a pirate and still be a decent person. "I think some of them just need their freedom, Will," I suggested, "they're not bad people, but they can't be forced to conform to society. Piracy is their only manner of escape."

"That's you position, is it?" Will questioned, his tone revealing his disapproval.

"It is," I admitted, "you have the spirit to become a pirate yourself, I think. You have a sense of adventure, and just enough confidence to break the rules where needed. Don't force back parts of yourself for anyone," I narrowed my eyes, "including Elizabeth."

In hindsight, that was a stupid remark, and Will had no reason to take it well. I wasn't expecting him to backhand me, however. Which is exactly what he did, and it will confess that it hurt. I took a step back, bringing on hand up to touch my stinging cheek.

"Leave Miss Swann out of this!" he snarled at me. I had hurt his feelings, not to mention his pride. But I could tell that this was not even so much about my bring Elizabeth into the conversation, but my suggesting Will could, in any way, resemble a pirate. I knew he knew I was right.

"I apologize," I told him honestly, "I'm sorry."

Will calmed himself, "it's all right," he assured me, "did I hurt you?"

"You surprised me," I admitted. The pain had already faded to the point where I couldn't really feel it. "I guess I should think a little more before I speak my mind," I suggested, offering him a smile. He returned it.

"I hope no one saw me suddenly reach out and slap the air," he chuckled to me, "I do have a reputation of being a little…unorthodox." I laughed; soon Will would realize just how different he was.

We reached our destination at that moment. Will opened the door and motioned me inside. "You _are_ a gentleman," I teased him, slipping inside; Will followed me, closing the door quietly behind him. The donkey that turned the giant gears of the machines was moving, causing the gears to turn with quite a racket. Will hurried to calm it, stroking and soothing it gently. The donkey was staring right at me, its eyes seeming to hold an '_I've never seen you before'_ expression. Animals are always aware of the presence of an angel, whether humans are or not.

Will removed his coat, stepping into the back to see to Mister Brown, who was a lump in the corner, so intoxicated that he had slipped into a sleep so heavy it was unlikely he would have awoke if you set him on fire. "Right where I left you," Will sighed in a tone I recognized as that of someone who knew he had no hope of things changing. He placed his coat off to the side, and stepped up to the anvil to finish the work he had abandoned this morning.

"Not where I left you," Will remarked, clearly puzzled, noting the hammer left on the anvil. The smithy was perhaps not the cleanest place, but it was orderly; Will would not have left his tools lying about.

Glancing around for an explanation as to the hammer's mysterious change of location, Will found an old, well worn hat on the workbench. However, he clearly didn't recognizing it from where we had seen it earlier today. He reached out to pick it up, and suddenly the flat of a sword blade came down on his hand, freezing it in midair. The gesture reminded me of slapping the hand of a misbehaving child, and I couldn't force back a slight smile at the notion. Will's eyes followed the blade to the hand holding it, then followed hand and arm to the face of the pirate he belonged to. Recognition, as well as spite, flashed behind his dark eyes. But, being on the wrong end of the sword, he made no initial move.

Wordlessly, Jack Sparrow backed Will toward the door. Will looked to me for a cue, "Element of surprise," I advised simply. I know he understood what I meant.

"You're the one their hunting," Will remarked, trying to keep the worried tone out of his voice, "The pirate." He spat the word as if it were poison; or perhaps meaning to use it like an insult. Jack Sparrow registered no emotion, either this didn't affect him or he didn't care. But after a moment, his eyebrows raised in an expression of familiarity, like that of someone who has just met a friend they haven't seen in years.

"You look somewhat familiar, have I threatened you before?" he asked, voice casual, yet, I could detect a slight tone of concern within his voice.

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," Will answered icily. The steel in his voice caused me to tense. He remembered the vow he had made on the docks, and I could tell he wasn't the kind to break his word.

"Ah," Jack said, in a style that said he was actually still processing that. After a beat, he added, "Well, it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record." I smiled again at his offhand joke. "So if you'll excuse me," he turned to reclaim his hat. While his back was turned, Will grabbed the nearest sword, aiming it at the pirate with a flourish. I saw Jack roll his eyes in a _here we go again_ sort of fashion. He probably held Will in little more regard than the King's Navy, whom he had easily defeated and escaped from, I knew.

"Do you think this wise, boy? Crossing blades with a pirate?" Jack questioned in the same easy-going tone, he showed no fear, not considering Will any type of threat.

"You threatened Miss Swann," Will hissed accusingly. I had heard the phrase 'love is blind', but in this case, love was suicidal. I cringed slightly as Jack's blade grated against Will's, making a scraping sound that set my nerves on edge.

"Only a little," Jack hissed back in a dangerous tone. They both paused just long enough for it to be noticeable, then Jack thrust at Will, spoiling Will's intent for the element of surprise. Will's blade seemed to come up on a reflex to shield himself, stopping Jack's with a familiar metal clang. Jack attacked once more, and again Will blocked him. Still Jack was moving Will backward, though coming no where near connecting with anything but his sword. Will swung at Jack, but missed; again he thrust at the pirate, and again didn't connect. They began moving back the other way, and this time, Jack was blocking Will's movements. As they came back to where they had begun, they paused. I saw fury in Will's eyes; and admiration in Jack's.

"You know what your doing, I'll give you that," Jack conceded, "Excellent form." he grinned devilishly, "But how's your footwork?"

"If I step here…" he sounded as if he were instructing a beginner in the art of sword fighting, he cross-stepped right, his eyes never leaving Will's. Will moved smoothly with him. The two of them circled like a pair of wolves fighting to determine the Alpha Male. Swords whipped through the air and came together with another loud clang.

"Very good," Jack complimented, still having that teaching tone in his voice, "And now I step again…." He quickly moved left, and again Will kept his pace. A perfect mirror of Jack's every move. I smiled; Jack Sparrow didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. Again swords sliced the air, clanging together loudly. But now, Will was no longer between Jack and the door out. Jack gave one last thrust, forcing Will back a pace. "Ta," he determined victoriously, sheathed his sword, and made for the door. Will made eye contact with me for a second, and I could tell what he was thinking: _move!_ I was standing between Jack Sparrow and freedom, but as I saw Will raise his sword I ducked out of the way…. Not in time, however. Will hurled the sword as I dodged, but suddenly I felt something pull me back. I looked over my shoulder and saw to my dismay that Will's sword had barely missed my body, but had successfully pinned my dress and shirt beneath it to the door.

Jack had narrowly missed taking the sword to the back of the head, but instead now the latch on the door could not be lifted. He grabbed the sword with both hands and began tugging on it frantically. Every time he jerked it, my entire body smashed into the door. I winched as my head bounced off the wood. He was unable to dislocate the sword.

Jack stepped away from the door, and approached Will, using a cart as a ramp down from the door. Will was staring at me with confusion. I figured he though he'd pierced right through me and couldn't understand why I hadn't died. "That is a wonderful trick," Jack remarked, bring Will's focus back to him. "Except once again, you are between me and my way out, and now, you have no weapon." Even if I hadn't been able to see his face, I could still practically hear the malicious Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Will respond by reaching behind him and producing a sword which's tip had been resting in the fire so he could finish it later. The tip glowed orange, and Jack paused, eyes growing wide and smile disappearing. The donkey, making the connection, began walking again at the sight of the molten metal, and the gears began to turn again.

And so, the sword fighting began again. Sparks flew from Will's blade as he blocked Jack's thrusts. It didn't take long for Jack to once more relieve Will of his sword. Will dove forward in a somersault, like an acrobat, and seized another sword. The swords continued to fly and crash. Now they were dodging and fighting in between the fears. Will seemed at the advantage, because he was used to moving between the gears while they were in motion, Jack looked unsteady on his feet.

Jack gazed around at the abundance of swords that were, seemingly, everywhere, "who makes all these?"

"I do!" Will announced proudly, still striking and blocking around pillars, "and I practice with them, three hours a day!"

"You need to find yourself a girl, mate," Jack determined. They both leapt off the machine, Will acquiring another sword as he did so. Jack scooped up a hammer, which he hurled at Will. Will easily dodged, then thrust with both swords at Jack. Jack's blade caught them both and forced them above Will's head. They stayed locked there for a moment. "Or, perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is it that you've already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet?" he leered at Will, then pulled back as another thought seemed to find its way into this mind, "you're not a eunuch are you?"

My remarks earlier may have born the blunt of Will's temper, but Jack Sparrow's remarks had wounded his pride deeply. The anger and hatred in his eyes swelled. "I practice three hours a day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!" he shouted, referring to Jack as an 'it', as if his pirate title made him less than human. Both swords came down and were thrust madly towards Jack's heart. As Jack backed away and Will moved after him, the ramp slid off the blocks supporting it and became a giant see-saw, with Will perched on one end and Jack on the other. Will kept his balance easily, once, again, like an acrobat. Their swords continued to fly.

Will jabbed at Jack, and his blade went through one end of chain hanging from his wrist. While this was not intentional, it was certainly helpful for Will, who quickly forced the blade into a beam overhead, trapping on of Jack's arms. Jack swung at him in an attempt to simply slice him across the chest and be done with him; Will ducked out of the way. Jack stopped his foot down hard on a board, which came up and hit Will square in the face. I winched, feeling a shock of pain course through my own body as Will toppled backward off the cart and hit the floor hard. I pulled against the sword, having given up trying to coax it loose, hoping to rip myself free. However, I lacked the strength to rip through both the heavy fabric of the dress and the shirt beneath it, especially since I was pinned at the shoulder blades. I gave up and slumped against the door. Someone would have my head for this: my assignment in a life-or-death situation, and I was pinned to a door, unable to force myself free. _Nice going, 'Sheba'_, I though to myself, _you have got to be the only angel in all of heaven who can get yourself into situations like these_. As you can tell, this wasn't the first time I'd found myself in similar trouble.

It was all right, as Will quickly recovered himself and jumped to his feet. Jack had swung his feet up to try and pull the sword out by putting his entire body weight on it. He obviously hadn't considered what would happen should he succeed…. Just as Will stepped back onto the cart, the sword came loose and Jack plummeted down. Will was shot up into the rafters, and landed on one in a cat-like manner. _Blacksmith nothing_, I thought, _he should be in a circus_. Jack had hit his head, but was now clambering to his feet. He looked around for Will, stepping back onto the now empty cart.

Will's sword cut through a rope securing a large weight, just as Jack located him. The weight fell where Will had stood and catapulted Jack into the rafters. Jack was not as nimble or graceful as Will had been about it, and just barely caught the beam with both arms. He did manage to pull himself up, however. He turned and pointed his sword at the young blacksmith, and the fight continued. Both men showed acrobatic talent as they leapt between two beams, finally ending up sword to sword once more. Moving cautiously along the beams as their blades clanged. Will managed to disarm the pirate, sending his sword crashing to the ground. Jack's expression registered both disgust and exasperation as he leapt off the beam to find a new weapon. Will took a much more graceful manner of back-flipping down to land on his feet, without so much as a wobble.

Jack, looking for either a weapon or a distraction until he found one, seized the bag used to catch the hot ashes from the forge and sprayed the ash in Will's face. Will stumbled backward, blinded by the burning ash. Jack easily kicked his sword away. Regaining his sight somewhat, Will grabbed up a set of tongs to use as a temporary weapon. But, turning to face his adversary, he found himself staring down the barrel of Jack's pistol.

"You cheated!" Will accused in a tone of disbelief.

"Pirate," Jack remind him.

The Navy began pounding on the door, and again I was pitched back and forth against it. The breath was knocked from my body, and I coughed on instinct. Will positioned himself bravely between Jack and the other door.

"Move away!" Jack commanded.

"No," Will said simply

"Please move!" Jack pleaded. No matter how dangerous Jack Sparrow tried to make himself appear, I felt he wouldn't take a man's life if there was any way he wouldn't have to.

"No," Will argued, "I cannot just step aside and let you escape." Beneath me, the door shook harder. As my head slammed into it hard, I temporarily lost my focus on the pirate and blacksmith. Still, I heard Jack's pistol cock.

"This shot is not meant for you," Jack told Will. I could tell that he was trying to scare Will into moving, but he was practically begging him not to make him shoot. Will's eyebrows nearly touched.

Just then, I saw Mister Brown, who had dragged himself over, bring the rum bottle down on Jack's head. I cringed as Jack remained standing for the blink of an eye, and then crumpled to the floor, landing on his face.

It was then that the Navy managed to force the door open, pushing me with it. I could still see some of what was happening, as the Navy surrounded the unconscious Jack Sparrow.

"Excellent work, Mister Brown," the soldier from the docks praised, "you've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."

"Just doing my civic duty, sir," Brown slurred after a noticeable pause as his drunken brain managed to process the soldier's words. Will's expression registered his disappointment; I could practically hear what he was thinking: _and I contributed no assistance, did I?_

"Well, I trust you shall remember this as the day Captain Jack Sparrow _almost_ escaped," the Soldier sneered. Jack must have made some reference to escape while we couldn't hear them. "Take him away," he ordered the other soldiers.

"Yes, Commodore," one of them said. They relieved Jack of his hat, sword, and pistol before hauling him out. _Commodore, hmm?_ I though to myself, _so that's why he's so full of himself._

Will wiped ashes from his face with his shirt sleeve as he approached me. I cast my gaze downward with embarrassment. Will placed one hand on the door, grasped the sword hilt with the other, and drew it out with one pull. As Mister Brown disappeared, I presumed to find more rum, and the soldiers left with their captive, he gave me a concerned look.

"Are you hurt at all?" he asked me in a whisper.

"Just my dignity," I replied. Will nodded, and sneezed. "You should get yourself cleaned up," I advised.

"I suppose so," he grumbled bitterly. He stared at the door thoughtfully. "He didn't kill me when he had the chance."

"Perhaps he doesn't want a man's blood on his hands," I suggested casually.

"He's a pirate; they all have innocent blood on their hands," Will retaliated sharply. We said no more on the issue. Will led me to his room at the back so he could change his clothes and clean the soot from his face. I lingered a pace or so behind him, trying to fabricate some scheme to change his opinion of pirates for the better.


	5. Peaceful Twilight

Sorry it has taken so long to update this chapter. I wanted to show that Will really is a gentleman towards Sheba. I also feel that some of his true character can be seen in this chapter. That's what I was aiming for, anyway.

please R&R

* * *

Will's quarters were small and scarcely furnished; a far cry from the Swann mansion. _Perhaps that's why he's so self-conscious around Elizabeth,_ I mused silently. Will was examining his face in a cracked mirror. I put my hand in my dress pocket, and produced, somehow, a handkerchief. I just shrugged, used to the unexpected. I stepped over to Will, taking his chin in one hand, and proceeded to wipe to soot from his face.

"At least you kept your mouth closed," I remarked, attempting to cheer him up. Will made a face at the thought of a mouthful of ashes.

The ashes came off Will's face, but left no stain on the handkerchief, which I folded and returned to the pocket of the dress, presuming I would require it later. Will pulled off his ash covered shirt, "My only dress shirt," he grumbled, choosing another from a small locker, the kind used on ships. That thought made me smile.

"Let me see what I can do about that," I offered, lifting the shirt to examine it. I felt I owed him that much, after being unable to assist him earlier.

Will stared out the window at the gathering twilight, "Are you hungry?" he asked me after a moment.

"I don't eat," I replied casually, not really thinking about what I was saying.

"Oh," he sounded disappointed.

"Well, I don't need to, that is," a quickly added, "I could, if I wanted to. But angels don't need food, or sleep for that matter. So we can always be on duty."

"Well, I don't want to boast, but I make a fairly good stew," Will said, grinning, "Would you care to join me for dinner?"

"I wouldn't want to steal food from you," I objected. It was obvious the poverty Will lived in.

"It won't be difficult to make for two," he replied, "Please?"

"All right," I conceded. Will brightened. I could tell he was glad to merely have company. How many meals had he eaten alone?

Will began preparing food, and I filled a basin with warm water, and between that and a little angelic influence, began removing to ash and soot from his shirt. After only a few seconds, the silence felt heavy and awkward. A thought came to me, "Was your father a blacksmith, Will?"

"No," he replied, "He was a merchant sailor. I never actually knew him. My mother raised me in England all by herself. I came here looking for him when she died."

"I'm so sorry," I replied.

"It's all right," he smiled at some memory that had surfaced. "She was a strong woman; willful. Once she set her mind to something, she would move Heaven and Earth to see that it was done."

"Do you think that you're like her? Or do you think that you take after your father?"

"I don't know," Will said quietly, "She named me for him, though. His name was also William Turner. She always said that I was my father's son, but I'm not sure what she was implying by it." He paused, and then turned back to me, "And what of you?" he studied me for a moment, "You cannot be any older than eighteen years."

"I only look young; I'm as old as any angel."

"How old is any angel?"

"I don't really know, we were created before time began. I witnessed the creation of the world."

Will nodded thoughtfully, "That must have been a sight to behold."

"When you die, you will see what I see."

"If I go to Heaven, you mean."

"Why wouldn't you?" I questioned in a light tone, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

He smiled, shaking his head, "I would think that if I wasn't, you would not have been sent."

"You probably would have an angel, but one for the lost. That's not my duty, I'm here to aid you through a difficult part of your life, not save your eternal soul."

"If God is so merciful, why do souls need saving?"

_Why does everyone ask me questions like this?_ I pondered. "I am not permitted to tell you. That power is held by God alone."

"Can you tell me why you were sent to me?"

"Because you were chosen, Will. You will experience hardship, and I am to guide you through this time. But I cannot change what will transpire. That, too, lies outside my power."

"You get asked questions like these often," Will observed, probably noticing that my answers sounded slightly rehearsed from use.

I nodded, "Yes, by everyone. I'm used to it, humans want to know about things that lie beyond their own understandings. That or they are afraid of thing beyond their understanding, and determine them to be dangerous or 'wrong', and refuse to give way to any other interpretation." In this statement, I was throwing a slightly cloaked remark at Will's remarks on pirates, especially on Jack Sparrow.

Will didn't answer me, he simply stared into the fire he was cooking over. I had a feeling he had realized what I was really saying. I turned the shirt in my hands over again, glancing down to see that I had removed the stains already. And that I had worked the fabric into a long coil. I tended to do things like that when I got nervous, and being asked questions I didn't have the power to answer still caused my heart to thump around in my chest somewhat. Releasing my death-grip on the garment, I slowly uncoiled it- no harm done. I lifted it, coiling it the other way to wring it out. The sound of water splashing back into the basin caught Will's attention, and he turned back to me.

"There, I believe that should do it."

Will smiled with slight relief, "Thank-you, Sheba."

"Least I can do," was my reply. I stood, setting the basin on the floor carefully. Kneeling beside Will, who was sitting on a low stool beside the fire, and hung the shirt by the hearth to dry.

The firelight cast strange shadows on Will's strong features, and illuminated his eyes, which stared into its heart. It was like he could read his destiny in the flames. After several long moments, he spoke: "That pirate…."

"Jack Sparrow," I corrected.

"Right, Sparrow. I am puzzled by him. He had the chance to kill me, to shoot me. I had no manner of defending myself, but instead, he pleaded with me. He was a fool to think I would step aside, but…" he turned to me, the curiosity and concern shining along with the firelight in his eyes, "Why did he not kill me?"

"Jack Sparrow is not evil, I don't think. He seems to be a 'good' person. But remember, Will, people are not so easily classified into simply 'good' and 'bad', life's not like that. Nothing in life is that easy. Keep an open mind." I paused, selecting my next words very carefully, "After all, Jack did risk his life to save Elizabeth today."

Will had turned back to the fire, and now he suddenly faced me, his gaze penetrating, I couldn't hold his eyes. "What?" he asked me.

"You heard me," I replied with more confidence than I really felt, "Sparrow saved Elizabeth, Will. That was why her dress was gone. He had to rip it off her to keep her from downing."

Will was quiet for a moment, "He saved her?" he wondered allowed, speaking to himself, "For no personal profit?" this was nothing like what Will had determined pirates to be. He had a view of them as self-centered, cheating, lying, scum. He believed pirates looked out for no one other than themselves. I had asked how pirates maintained control over their crews, which had left him without an answer, but still hadn't changed his mind. But I felt I had just struck the right nerve.

I was thinking of what to say next, when Will removed the cooking pot from its hook inside the fire and set it on the dirt floor. He shook his hand, placing a couple of scorched fingertips in his mouth. He gave me a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I'll take it," I offered as Will searched for something to wrap around the handle. I wrapped a tight fist around the pot handle, wincing as I felt it burn deeply into my hand. The pot was slightly heavier than I'd anticipated, but I, still, could lift it easily. Setting it on the small table Will had prepared for two, I was eager to pull my hand back, but had to do so gingerly or else leave skin behind on the pot handle. Will reached out taking my wrist to examine the wound. A long deep burn ran across my palm, my fingers were also burned slightly.

Will's eyes widened as the burn began to instantly heal. Before his eyes, the burn faded away until nothing remained but a faint line that would take a few hours to disappear. He looked at me in disbelief. "Beauty of being eternal," I explained, "It takes a serious wound to even leave a slight scar." I didn't know then about the scars I would leave this assignment with.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not anymore, it did initially."

Will obviously didn't know what to say to that, so he turned his attention to ladling out the dinner he'd made us. I flexed my fingers a couple times, to limber my hand back up. I then turned to offer any assistance I could.

Will transferred the now cooled pot back to rest beside the fire. "Nothing's very fancy," he confessed.

I touched the back of his hand gently, "It's beautiful in the compassion that created it," I told him. "Beauty has many forms. But physical ones are often of the least importance."

Will smiled, and circled around the table. "Allow me," he said, pulling the chair backward from the table, and helping me to sit. I felt my cheeks burn crimson, but thanked him all the same. Will went back to his side of the table, and sat. He smiled at me, I returned it. He was trying to make up for the simplicity of the meal by mustering up as much chivalry as was humanly possible.

Will placed his hands together, and bowed his head, I mimicked the position as Will recited a short blessing. "Amen," I determined in unison with him.

He smiled, " I know I am not the first to dine with an angel, but I am honored all the same."

The blush in my cheeks deepened, "Really, Will, there's no need…."

He held up one hand to end my protests, then gestured to the food, "Please eat, Sheba." I nodded obediently, noticing that Will was watching me, waiting for my reaction. I took the spoon and caught a look at what I was eating, feeling lead weights pull my heart. This was not the finest of food, but probably the best Will could afford. Guilt ripped at me, but all the same I did as he requested, and ate.

I had never tasted any better. Seeing Will's concerned expression, I gave him my best smile, "Delicious, Will, its wonderful."

He looked relived, "Thank-you." We finished the meal in silence, but I still couldn't shed the guilt that plagued me. Will had barely enough for himself, and still he was willing to share with me, when I didn't even require food. I paused, guilt crushing my heart. Will noticed, "Sheba?"

"I'm sorry," I said forcing a smile, "Will, thank-you, you didn't have to do this."

"The pleasure is mine, I wanted to do this for you."

I returned to the meal, doing my best to enjoy the comfortable, friendly atmosphere. In my line of work, they seldom lasted long.


	6. The Black Pearl Attacks

When dinner was finished, Will returned to his work. I sat in the smithy with him, the two of us forming the comfortable silence usually shared only by lovers and old friends. However I could not shake the unsettled sensation that had taken up residence in my heart.

Will sensed nothing, which meant nothing. Angels are far more perceptive than humans. This is because humans are physical, crafted from physical matter, angels are created from much more. A substance not bound by the rules of the physical world. This is what grants us abilities such as the ability to levitate (fly). Because of this we can sense things on both plains of existence, such as the presence of our own, or of our fallen counterparts. That is something no angel wishes to sense.

But this had nothing to do with the angels of any sort. This was that feeling something is going to happen, but you don't know what. Something, something evil, was approaching. Something that had a mission. Will was a part of it, but he did not know that, and, as of yet, neither did the coming adversary. I knew better than to tell him.

Will broke the silence, talking over the clanging of the hammer against what was soon to be his next sword. "What is Heaven like, Sheba? Are there ships there?"

"Yes, I have sailed there," I answered truthfully, "They are any sailor's dream, calm seas and steady winds."

"Are there many angels?"

"Over one hundred million," I replied, "Each one unique, and each one a piece of the Host as a whole."

"Are they all as nice as you?" Will inquired, glancing teasingly at me over his shoulder.

I felt myself blush again, "Ahh… I think so, we all get along. We function together as parts of the whole, really. Angels have a hard time with the concept of individuality."

"What about rank? Do some angels outrank others?"

I hesitated in my answer, to give him really only a vague description would be overpowering for him. There were many levels. And there were different levels within the Seven Heavens under the Princes that I am not familiar with. Most people are under the impression that there are only two types of angels: Angels and Archangels. In truth, there are hundreds of ranks. One angel could hold different ranks in different areas. Many are familiar with the two most powerful angels: Gabriel and Michael. They, technically, are responsible for each and every one of us. Most of us, down in the mundane world of the departments, are terrified of them.

"Yes," I finally answered, "There are many ranks; I am of the lowest rank: the Nameless Angels."

"You have a name."

"Technically, I don't. For this time, while I am with you, you know me as Sheba. Each human I guide will know me by whatever identity I choose."

"Why not choose just one and keep it?"

_Everyone asks me this too_, I thought. The worst part is: there is no answer. It's just isn't done. Like human tradition: it exists, everyone keeps it and no one questions it. The Kingdom is just like that. And angels are accepting, whereas humans are more rebellious.

"We simply don't, names are for identification, and, as I said, angels of my rank or lack there of function as a whole with many parts. We don't need to tell each other apart."

"Do you ever feel…lost? Just another, with no identity?"

"No, because I know my Lord knows me. He is all that truly matters."

"Do you speak to the higher angels? Report to them?"

"Not if I can help it," I admitted, smiling, "I report to my superior/supervisor, Anthony. I stay away from the Princes, the Archangels, the Masters, them all, at any acceptable costs. Very few of my kind are called to go before the High Council or into audience with any angels outranking us anyway."

Will smiled, "Sounds like me. I stay away from mostly everyone. I have always felt I did not belong here. I have always longed for a place that I cannot describe, perhaps that does not exist. As a child, I always wanted to be a sailor, like my father."

Here I smiled; Will was feeling his pirate roots, even though he did not yet know they existed. Then a cold shock ran through my entire body. The evil presence that I had forgotten when the conversation began was now close. In fact, it was here.

I gasped aloud, my entire body going ridged with terror. Will heard me and gave me a look of confusion and concern over his shoulder.

"Will," I gasped, "Something…something is coming." I realize, now, how clichéd I sounded. But I didn't have any other way to describe it. Something was indeed coming. Something cold as the grave and evil as Hell itself.

Will nodded, "I thought something was…off, I thought perhaps I was starting to truly go mad."

I shook my head, "No, there's something there, Will, something dangerous."

Will set down what he was working on, and opened a window in the smithy. I joined him at the window, peering out into the night. Fog was rolling in off the sea with the evening, blanketing everything, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Were Will and I both sensing nothing? Had my sudden exclamation caused him to believe he noticed a change?

Suddenly, my mind filled with an image of a ship, a ship with torn black sails. The Black Pearl. That was what I had been sensing tonight. This ship moved through the fog like the ghost that it was. It reeked of evil. I felt myself tremble violently, as if with extreme cold. Will turned back to me.

"Sheba, are you all right?"

Before I could answer, the explosion of near-by cannons interrupted us. This was soon accompanied by the booming of Port Royal's own cannons as they returned fire. I knew it was doomed to inevitable failure. You cannot kill what cannot die.

The cannon-fire was mingled with the screams of terrified villagers. I knew the cursed pirates were now landing. I could feel their presence: a sliver of ice imbedded in my very fabric. As an angel, I am incredibly attuned to balances of the spiritual world. And I could feel the darkness that accompanied these damned souls. I could also feel the presence of many of my own. This caused my heart to skip with pity: Soul Collectors, the death angels; people would die tonight. Angels were there to bring them before judgment.

Will was heading for the door, "Will, you're not serious?"

"What am I supposed to do? Stay here, Sheba, its safe here."

"What am _I_ supposed to do? Let you face death alone?" I returned sharply, but, inside, I felt flattered that he was thinking about me.

"Can you fight?"

"Yes, and, to my benefit, I'm invisible, remember?"

Will sighed, shrugged, and made for the door, probably hoping to make it before I could raise any further argument with him. He paused only long enough to seize an axe and his sword. I tore after him.

Emerging into total chaos, Will stood still a moment. Then, spotting a pirate, he hurled his axe, striking the pirate beautifully between the shoulder blades. The pirate crumpled to the street. Will ran off, grabbing his axe as he passed.

I, however, found myself unable to move. The cursed pirates emanated an aura I had never before detected. Something cold, malicious, and empty, an emptiness where was normally filled by life, and by the soul. These pirates were lifeless, soulless, and the energies this gave overpowered me. I had not faced something so evil in such face-to-face combat in so long….

If Will had hesitated longer, he would have seen the pirate he 'killed' pick himself up and take off into the frenzy again.

When I had myself together enough that I could move, I immediately raised myself from the ground, and flew after Will.

Will has skillfully felling any pirates he passed, he was now in over his head as he faced a pirate- Grapple he was called. This pirate towered over Will, and soon had an anchor-like hook wrapped around Will's neck. He held an axe to Will's face, "Say goodbye." Will could see me, out of the corner of his eye, watching me, as I was intending to simply hit, and hopefully confuse the pirate long enough for him to escape. I had no real plan at the moment. I was a good five feet above the ground, perpendicular to it, and moving as fast as I could. But just before I came into contact, a cannon-shot smashed into the wall above us, causing the sign hanging there to come toppling down.

Will sprang back to narrowly avoid taking the sign to the back of the head. Grapple was not so quick, and was propelled directly through the window behind him, as the heavy sign swung down into his chest. The impact would have been enough to shatters a human's ribs.

I was not quite as fast as Will, trying to pull back to avoid the falling sign, I did not go back far enough fast enough, and the sign caught my shoulder. I was sent, sprawling, to the ground, as the window shattered above me.

The initial pain of the fall was a quick lightning bolt through my body. But a torturous pain lingered in the side of my neck. Reaching up with an arm that felt leaden, I soon discovered that cause. A piece of glass, shaped into a perfect dagger, was embedded deep in my neck. Bringing my hand in front of my eyes, I could see that it was smeared with rich scarlet.

Of course, I didn't die. Angel's don't die, we can't. But I could feel the glass emerging through my skin. Any human would be dead by now, or would die within moments, as the glass had severed both the carotid and the jugular. But for me, all it was was intensely painful.

Will was staring at me, I tried to tell him I was fine, but was unable to make any sounds, save a sort of choking/gasping noise. I managed to gesture him to go. "Goodbye," Will mocked the pirate, before turning and disappearing back into the swarm of bodies.

Wrapping my fingers around the glass shard, I felt its edges digging into my hand, easily splitting my skin. There was only one way to do this- one quick sharp pull. I gritted my teeth, tightened my grip, ignoring how my hand was being cut open and bleeding, and pulled with all my strength.

I gave a scream of excruciating pain as I felt the shard come free. Though it instantly began to dull. I staggered to my feet, casting the glass dagger to the ground as I did so. It shattered into many tiny fragments. I reached up to touch my neck. I could feel the wound, which I knew was healing rapidly, but would leave me with a scar, like I had told Will: to scar an angel, it would probably need to be able to kill a human. The blood on my skin and clothes dried instantly and evaporated like a mist.

Then Will and I both saw Elizabeth Swann being forced along by a small band of pirates, toward where the Black Pearl lay anchored. Elizabeth turned, and looked right at Will, but I noticed that there was no terror in her face.

"Elizabeth!" Will exclaimed, he was about to start after them, but his path was blocked by a pirate, who was holding two roughly constructed bombs, and another, with its fuse lit, had just landed between Will's feet. Will just stared at it, unable to react. I, too, was frozen, my brain and body unable to connect. The fuse burnt down…

Nothing; Will smirked at the pirate, who looked confused.

Then another pirate, heading for their ship, raced past, and brought the hilt of his sword into contact with Will's head, hard. Will's brow furrowed as his brain tried to process what had happened. Then he slumped over and fell to the dirt hard. I dropped beside him. Somehow, even in this turmoil, there was a small pocket of calm surrounding us. I looked around for the first time, and saw many Soul Collectors plying their trade. Death was everywhere, as if a small war had been waged right here. I suppose that it had.

I covered Will's head and upper body with my own, and prayed that no Collector would need to come for him. In this manner, I passed the night.


	7. Accord in Trust

The 'presence' Sheba feels in Jack's cell is, of course, Morph's spirit guide, Calypso. After all, credit where credit is due.

Enjoy, please R&R

* * *

As the first light of dawn began to tint the eastern sky with hues of pink and orange, Will began to stir beneath me. I quickly pushed myself upright, removing my weight from Will's body. Will raised his head , reaching behind him to touch the back of it gingerly. 

I placed a hand on his chest, "Easy, Will, easy."

Will shrugged me off and endeavored to get to his feet. I caught him by the arm and helped him up. Once on his feet, he seemed to now be fine. He stared out at the ships floating in the harbor, and the chaos spread everywhere. I knew there was only one person who occupied his mind at the moment, and we had no idea where she was.

Will, with a stumble in his stride, immediately headed for the fort, where the Governor, the Commodore and the soldiers would be strategizing. What he planned to do, I didn't dare to ask.

"Will, you should take it easy…" I began.

"Sheba," Will hissed at me through his teeth, trying not to be heard, "I'm fine."

"Will, I'm sorry I couldn't stop him."

Will paused his stride long enough to grab my hand and squeeze it. "I'll watch my own back, Sheba. It was my fault."

As we began walk again, Will tripped over his own feet and it was all I could do to catch him before he hit the cobblestones. I held up my hand, "Will, focus: how many fingers?"

"Two?"

"You're all right," I determined, lowering my two extended fingers. I helped Will steady himself on his feet before we moved on. Those who were present did not notice Will Turner's odd behavior; they were preoccupied with their own business.

Will reached around to touch the swelling on the back of his head, "Ow!" When I moved to help, he brushed me aside. Then a though seemed to come to him, "Sheba, the last time I remember seeing you, you were knocked to the ground with a glass shard in your throat. Are you hurt?" he pointed to the pale scar that now marked my neck.

I shook my head. "Angels don't suffer injury, Will, " I pointed out, though I felt a slight flattery at his concern, "Not really. You're sure _you're_ all right?"

"I have to help Miss Swann."

_Ah, young love_, I thought to myself. Will, though sometimes stumbling, and I continued to make our way in a half-run towards the fort.

By the time we had reached our destination, Will had broken into a full run, and I had opted to fly rather than run, so as not to risk being trampled or run over by an ox-cart. Will, in a sort of frenzy, descended upon a very relaxed seeming Commodore Norrington. "They've taken her! They've taken Elizabeth!"

"Mister Murtogg, remove this man," Norrington countered, sounding bored.

Will was not about to be 'removed', nor was he about to be ignored. "We have to hunt them down. We must save her!"

"Will…" I said through gritted teeth.

"And where do you propose we start?" Governor Swann demanded, "If you have any information concerning my daughter, please share it!" Will, obviously, hadn't yet figured that part out.

"That Jack Sparrow," one of the guards, Mullroy, spoke up, "He talked about the Black Pearl."

"Mentioned it is more what he did," Murtogg corrected.

"Ask him where it is!" Will pleaded, "Make a deal with him; he can lead us to it!"

_The idea has merit_, I thought to myself, _if you want to catch a thief, you send a thief; if you want to catch a pirate—send a pirate._

"No," Commodore Norrington determined with a deep heave of breath, like an attempt at a dignified sigh. "The pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow locked in his cell; ergo they are not his allies."

I didn't find that a satisfactory reason, evidently, Will didn't either. I had seen, from when I first met him, that Will was subject to fits of temper. Obviously, he made not exception, either for angels, or military men. "That's not good enough!" Will determined, sizing his axe from his belt, and slamming it down, with all his strength, into Commodore Norrington's map. The axe remained there, its blade stuck in the table.

"Will," I whispered pleadingly, "Keep your temper if you want this to go anywhere."

"Mister Turner," Norrington said in a voice that clearly said _'I'm trying to be civil with you, but you are being unreasonable and stretching my patience'_, he gripped the axe by its head and pulled it free from the table, "You are not a military man. You are not a sailor. You are a blacksmith." The condescending tone he placed on the word 'blacksmith' betrayed his vision of Will's class.

"And where," I asked out loud, though Norrington couldn't hear me, "Would the King's Navy be without blacksmiths to supply weapons for them?" Will shot me an approving glance.

"And this is not the moment for rash actions," Norrington finished, grabbing Will firmly by the arm and dragging him, quite literally, out of the room. I had to fight every reflex in my body to keep myself from pulling him off my assignment.

Will's expression was very calm, though annoyed that his council was not being considered, and this seemed to infuriate Norrington even more. His gaze was fixed upward, as if inwardly praying to be spared anymore of Norrington's ranting speech. When he did turn to look at the Commodore, he kept his head up and tilted back, which meant he had to look down the bridge of his nose at Norrington. I don't know whether or not Norrington was ignorant of the gesture, but it defiantly gave Will the more dignified air between the two of them. Will seemed, at all times really, to possess an air of gentility, as if he were of high breeding or rank himself. He wasn't proud per-say, but he was confident, and took offense in stride, something I had noticed Commodore Norrington didn't do.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for Elizabeth," Norrington threatened. The malice in his voice came easily to my ears, though I was used, even somewhat trained, to listening not only to what was said, but every part of how it was said, and the underlying emotion in the voice. It tells the difference between real and empty threats. Norrington thrust Will's axe back into his hand almost hard enough to hurt him, then turned and walked off as if he had done nothing.

I put an arm around Will's shoulders. Will was obviously considering turning back it and defending his honor. "Will," I prompted, "Let's go." When Will didn't move, I gave him a slight nudge, "It isn't worth it, Will." He listened to me, and we both left.

"I think the adage here, Will, is: 'if you want something done, you've got to do it yourself'."

"Oh, Sheba? And what is that?"

"Well, you want someone to talk to Jack Sparrow…" I suggested, "And the prison guards who aren't dead are helping to restore order." Will brightened at my suggestion, grabbed my hand again, and we started running for the prison.

Will tore open the door so hard I thought it might come off its hinges. I held onto his shoulders as he raced down the stairs, afraid he would send his feet out from under him. Sparrow's cell was near the doorway, a bone sticking out of the lock where he had obviously tried to pick it. _First rule of hiding a crime, Jack Sparrow_, I thought, _remove the evidence._

Sparrow was sprawled, innocently, on the floor; looking as though our arrival had awakened him from a nap. "You, Sparrow!" Will addressed.

"Aye?" Jack asked, raising his head from the floor.

"You are familiar with that ship, the Black Pearl?"

Jack lay back down, "I've 'eard of it."

_Methinks you've done more than 'heard' Captain Sparrow_, I mused silently.

"Where does it make berth?" Will asked, trying not to let on how much he really needed Jack's help to find the Pearl.

"Where does it make berth?" Jack echoed, an almost taunting smiling spreading across his lips, "Have you not heard the stories?"

It was at that moment I noticed something. I could feel, more like sense, an extra presence in the room besides the three of us. It was inside the cell with Jack. It was no angel, but I also didn't feel it was of any evil intent. I cocked my head thoughtfully, staring at the corner from which the feeling seemed to be coming. Will didn't seem aware of anything, if Jack was, he hid it well. I wasn't sure if the presence was even there, and, if it was; what, or perhaps who, it was and if it was aware of me. But, as it didn't seem a threat, I said nothing. If a spirit or something of the like wanted to tag along, I was not going to object.

Will was giving Jack Sparrow a 'what are you talking about' expression, so Jack continued to elaborate. "Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants," he spoke the name as if it were an acid, and 'his crew' with bitter sarcasm, as if to suggest the crew didn't belong to said captain at all. In fact, he seemed to hold them in the same regard my kind held Lucifer and his minions. "Sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found, except," he gave Will a sly sort of 'I'm keeping a secret' look, "By those who already know where it is."

_And that would be you, I suppose._

"The ship's real enough," Will responded, sounding irritated, "Therefore its anchorage must be a real place. Where is it?"

Jack, having returned his head to the floor, pretended to study his nails, as if Will's questions meant nothing to him. "Why ask me?"

I was about to get annoyed with Jack, when I realized, he had answered Will's question, he had only done so in a bit of a round-about way, leaving Will with another question in its wake. Now he was trying to bargain his way, I would have presumed, out of jail.

Will lowered his gaze to the floor, trying to drop his authoritative stance. "Because you're a pirate." There was a 'yes, I've stooped to asking a pirate for help' tone to the words.

"Treat him as an equal, not a lesser, Will, and you're more likely to get somewhere," I offered.

"And you want to turn pirate yourself, is it?" Jack teased. He probably still felt the wounds of his pride from Will's cutting remarks yesterday.

"Never!" Will returned, seizing the door in anger.

"Temper, Will," I reprehended like a schoolteacher, not angry, yet, more impatient or frustrated; which I was, with both Will and Jack.

Jack resumed examining his nails, waiting for Will to say the right thing. _Apologizing might work_, I thought, though I knew getting Will to apologize would be like getting Jack Sparrow to quit the seas— it couldn't be done. Will picked the easier option of offering a good reason for wanting Jack's help. After shifting his weight uncomfortably, he finally admitted, "They took Miss Swann."

"Oh, so it is that you've found a girl!" Jack exclaimed, pulling himself upward so he could cross his legs, then resting back onto his elbows. Something in his voice didn't actually sound mocking to me, but an honest 'I'm happy for you'. Jack Sparrow, I felt, might have _had_ many girls, but had not yet _found_ one. "I see," the pirate continued thoughtfully, "Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart, you'll have to do it alone, Mate. I see no profit in it for me." I saw Will's eyebrow twitch slightly in confusion at being addressed as 'Mate'.

"I can get you out of here," Will offered. I smiled, freedom was probably Will's best bargaining chip, but Jack was in a take-it-or-leave-it scenario. Still, Jack Sparrow was not to be easily deceived, he played his cards 'close to his chest', as Anthony often said. Not letting you know anything he didn't want you to.

"How's that? The key's run off." I wrinkled my nose in puzzlement at Jack's odd statement. _Oh well, makes sense to him_, the remark didn't see to hit Will.

"I helped build these cells," Will explained, sounding very proud of his accomplishment, "These," he rested a hand on the door's hinge, "Are half-pin barrel hinges." That obviously meant nothing to the pirate, so Will turned, lifted a wooded bench easily, and propped one set of legs under the door, so that the bench was sticking upright, forming a rough sort of lever. "With the right leverage, and the proper application of strength, the door with lift free."

I saw Jack's eyes light up slightly on the word 'leverage'. That sparked some recognition or cue. His brow furrowed. "What's your name?"

"Will Turner."

The recognition flashed like lightning, but Jack quickly had the thoughts visible in his eyes in check. But all the same, I knew the name was enough in itself to have coaxed Jack's aid. Now, is sealed the deal. Jack sat up fully. "That would be short for William, I imagine," Jack mused, "Good, strong name. No doubt named for your father, eh?"

"Yes," Will answered, clearly confused at Jack's knowledge.

"Uh huh," Jack murmured thoughtfully, "Well, Mister Turner, I've changed me mind," Jack nearly leapt to his feet. Will, instinctively, drew back a half-pace. "If you spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death I will take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?" He offered Will his hand through the bars. Will considered everything for a brief moment, searching Jack's kohl rimmed eyes for any sign of deception, then took Jack's hand in a firm handshake.

"Agreed."

"Agreed," Jack echoed happily, "Get me out!" His raised both hands in a lifting gesture. Will brought his weight down on the bench, kicked it at the base, and the hinges, with a loud metallic protest, lifted free. The door clattered to the floor.

"Hurry!" Will insisted, "Someone will have heard that!"

Jack stepped over the door, and grabbed his sword, gun, and compass, which were all hanging on his belt. "Not without my effects," he protested.

Once Jack had his 'effects' firm in hand, the three, or perhaps four of us (I had lost track of the presence I had felt in the cell, but something told me he/she/it was still with us), slipped out the jail through a back way, and made our way down to the waterfront.


	8. Brilliant Strategy

Thank-you, Morph, for adding me to your story, I'm truly flattered. You're in this chapter too.

enjoy Will's first introduction to piracy, so to speak.

* * *

Jack seemed to know the way from the jail to the shore by heart. He walked it so steadily I would've thought he could walk it with his eyes closed. There was a part where I was fairly certain he did. We stayed in the shadows, slipping silently from place to place. Jack lead, and I followed him and Will at a slight distance, keeping a careful check that we were not seen or followed. If we were to be, I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it, but I kept a weather eye open just the same.

We came to a stop under a low bridge, where we could see the Navy loading ships, but where they couldn't see us unless they were looking for us. Of course it was probably already common knowledge that Jack Sparrow had escaped. The present whereabouts of Will Turner were, most likely, unknown or not cared about. The soldiers had more than likely drawn the conclusion, from the use of the bench to remove the door, that an old friend from the sea, having heard of the poor fortunes of Jack Sparrow, had sprung him loose and that the two had put well out to sea by now.

Jack was noticing the _Dauntless_ and the _Interceptor_; I could practically hear his mind working. He was forming a plan, obviously. As Will had dubbed him, Jack Sparrow was indeed a 'cunning devil', though there didn't seem to be anything evil about him at all. I had already given my trust to him.

Will was not so prepared, however, "We're going to steal a ship?" he asked Jack, seeing our pirate companion contemplating the _Dauntless_.

"What did you expect?" was my response.

"That ship?" Will continued.

"Commandeer," Jack corrected him patiently, "We're going to commandeer _that_ ship," with this, he motioned to the _Interceptor_, "Nautical term."

Will gave me an 'is-this-guy-for-real' look over his shoulder.

Jack turned back to Will, absolutely dead serious, holding the blacksmith's eyes in a firm, penetrating gaze. "One question about your business, Boy, or there's no use going. This girl, how far are you willing to go to save her?"

Will didn't hesitate with his answer, "I'd die for her."

"Oh good, no worries then," Jack determined almost gleefully. He seemed very pleased tobe going after the Black Pearl and Barbossa,with willing help. Jack gave a brief outline of his plan, and I was highly impressed. Jack seemed to have worked this out perfectly, perhaps a practiced skill. Personally, I felt eager to get the plan underway. I was also wondering if I was going to get in trouble for this.

When the coast was clear, literally, Jack and Will ran down and secreted themselves under an overturned row boat. I crouched next to it, watching. As well, as was trying to see if the presence from the jail was still with us. I had lost any indications of him/her/it. I disliked thinking of the presence as an 'it', as it had given off the distinct impression of having a soul, making it, therefore, a person- sort of. I was pondering over what to call it, when a few soldiers ran past. Jack must've heard them go by and signaled Will because the two of them stood up, making the rowboat appear to grow legs, and walked into the water. I had to giggle, it looked hilarious.

Jack soon had them walking on the sea floor, breathing from the air bubble trapped inside the boat. I swam alongside, occasionally passing mermaid-like underneath the boat between Jack and Will. I wasn't concerned about leaving ripples in the water, as Jack had his back to me, and Will knew I was there. Every time I swam up to Will, he would give me a desperately confused, 'why-am-I-doing-this' look. At one point, he looked around me at Jack and determined, "This is either madness or brilliance."

I knew Jack was rolling his eyes at us without having to see his face. His expression was so obvious as he replied in a sort of impatient, bored, sort of 'shut-up' tone, "It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide."

I raised an amused eyebrow, looking from the back of Jack's head to an even more confused Will, then noticed something Will obviously didn't. "Will, look out for the lob…"

Too late, Will stepped on a homemade lobster trap, and got it stuck on his foot. He began trying to kick it off, to no avail. Will rolled his eyes in exasperation and simply continued to walk, dragging the trap along the sand. I noticed the rope attached to it and floated out from under the boat, to see that it led to the surface, probably to some kind of marker. I snickered to think of the fisherman seeing the marker, what ever it was, moving and determining, 'That there be one mighty strong lobster.'

While Will had only to contend with the lobster trap, I had a small problem of my own. My dress was waterlogged, and was now starting to feel extremely heavy. I could still swim, but my arms were getting tired from pulling my heavy skirts forward. I just didn't want to remove the dress before I was sure having Will perceive me as a pirate-angel was not going to impede his trusting me.

Jack Sparrow seemed to have an amazing sense of direction underwater. Anytime we started to go off-course, we quickly corrected. The thought that he was getting directions from a higher power flitted across my mind, making me smile. Jack was probably just experienced, but you never know.

We soon stood underneath the _Dauntless_. Jack held his breath and ducked out under the rowboat to look up, then pulled back under the boat. "We should have brought about seven feet of rope," he determined.

"There I can help," Will said, lifting his leg high enough that he could use one hand to coax the lobster trap off his foot. He offered the end of the rope, with the trap to Jack. Jack took the rope, and held it close to his face to examine it. Then he started gathering the rope. His eyes grew wide at how much there was, defiantly over seven feet, more like nine. Finally, the marker, which was actually a small barrel knocked against the top (bottom?) of the boat. Jack gave a couple of quick, sharp tugs, and the barrel bounced but the rope didn't come loose.

"I got it," I told Will, swimming out of the boat. The knot was tied too tight for me to untie it, especially with all Jack's frenzied tugging. I pushed the barrel under the boat, judging from Jack's exclamation that he had been hit by it when it re-surfaced. Jack told Will how was best to hold his breath, due to the pressure that was going to hit them when they let go of the boat. Carefully, they brought the boat down in such a manner that caused it to instantly fill with water so it wouldn't float to the surface and give away our position. Then Jack and Will swam until they were just below the surface, and Jack tied the end of the rope with the trap to the rudder, taking his time, and looped the rope end with the barrel over the rail of one of the balconies. They then climbed the rope to the first balcony, and climbed from there to the second, then over the rail onto the helm. Will was most defiantly impressed.

Having scaled the back of the ship, Jack and Will dropped silently onto the deck. The hot Caribbean sun had already partly dried their clothes and hair. I provided a little help with that, not wanting them to be hindered by the weight of wet fabric. My clothes dried almost instantly. Jack didn't even seem to notice. He seemed to me the kind of person who could manage to achieve his goal, no matter what.

Jack pulled his pistol from his belt, and Will drew his sword, Jack ran down the stairs casually, Will opted to leap the banister at the halfway point. I stayed behind Will, allowing Jack to 'take care of him'.

"Everyone stay calm!" Jack called out, he was _very_ calm, then again, he was in his element, "We are taking over the ship!"

Will, who was trying to make himself useful, raced up to Jack, and pointed his sword over the pirate's shoulder, "Aye! Avast!" the Navy officers laughed. Jack gave him a look as if to say 'What in Heaven's name do you think you are doing?' Will looked gave Jack an embarrassed 'I'm trying to help' look in return.

Another of Norrington's arrogant, overly self-confident soldiers stepped forward, "This ship cannot be crewed by two men," he announced haughtily, "You'll never make it out of the bay."

Jack Sparrow knew when he was being mocked, but he didn't allow his contempt to cause him to make a rash decision. Will's expression signified he was trying very hard to savoir whatever dignity he had left. He kept his sword raised, his eyes as firm as he could get them. "Son," Jack told the soldier, cocking his pistol at the now quite frightened soldier's nose, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," his own voice was a sort of echo of the soldier's haughty voice, "Savvy?" Jack's name had always possessed a certain ability to terrify, I knew, and it was certainly plying that trade now. Jack Sparrow was not a man to be doubted, not was he a man whose orders were to be questioned. He immediately had the soldiers in a rowboat, heading for shore; he and Will busied themselves with acting.

"Like this," Jack instructed, flapping his arms up and down.

"This is no way to sail," Will objected, "We'll never get anywhere." He jerked the ropes exasperatedly.

"We're not trying to get anywhere," Jack pointed out. Will yanked the ropes again, "Good, good, harder though."

Will let go of the ropes, turning to face the pirate, "I don't think I understand you plan quite, Jack. What's to keep them from coming after us?"

"Only the fact that I disabled the rudder chain," Jack said matter-of-factly. He gripped the ropes, "Hold them like this, see? And then…" He began flapping the ropes up and down, as if her were trying to set sail.

"So that's what you were doing on the way up," Will acknowledged. Looking out over the rail toward shore, I saw that Norrington had been alerted to the situation aboard the dauntless. Meanwhile, Jack had retired to the helm to take the wheel, and Will was again trying to copy what Jack had been doing with the ropes. I saw that the _Interceptor_ was on its way. We weren't going anywhere. I had heard people talking about criminals 'wanting to be caught'. Norrington and his soldiers had no idea that that was exactly what we wanted.

I alerted Will to the approach of the smaller ship. He and I raced to tell Jack. Will took the stairs two at a time, arriving slightly breathless, "Here they come," he told Jack, who looked over his shoulder, grinning a Cheshire cat grin.

When the other ship drew closer, Jack pulled Will into his pre-determined hiding place. I hovered in the air watching as the sailors on the _Interceptor_ flooded onto the deck of the _Dauntless_. They used grappling hooks to hold the two ships together, placing boards to use for ramps across. Jack and Will got hold of a couple of the ropes used to swing across and swung onto the _Interceptor_, which was a ship that could be crewed by two men, with a little innovation. Will cut some of the ropes with his axe, and Jack got us moving, which caused the rest of them to snap and the ramps to topple into the water.

Norrington almost didn't notice that the ship was bring stolen. By the time that he did, it was too late. The soldiers attempted to re-board, one of them swinging out and falling into the water. Both Will and Jack were beaming with pride as the distance between the two ships widened.

Jack removed his hat and waved it at Norrington in mock salute, "Thank-you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way. We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves." I could just envision the Commodore's expression in reaction to Jack's taunting mockery. I felt the pirate was getting even for Norrington's making a mockery of him yesterday. I could tell by Will's face that he was also thinking some similar thoughts, and not pitying Norrington at all.

The soldiers raised their guns and fired at us. Jack, Will, and I all ducked down. I could be shot and not die, but it would, if you will forgive me the expression, hurt like hell. Will and Jack, it being the second or third time in the past couple days for the latter, managed to evade the bullets. _Do they even teach these men to shoot_, I wondered to myself. Soon the _Interceptor_ was living up to its reputation as the fastest ship in the Caribbean. The men on the _Dauntless_ must've discovered that their rudder chain was no longer any good. This became apparent when they ran over the soldiers in the rowboat, who made a quite undignified leap overboard.

I looked at Jack Sparrow, and found him grinning happily even before Will said, "I take back what I said earlier, Jack, this was sheer brilliance."


	9. Truth and Lies

Hellooooooo... As usual this took way longer than it should've but between exams and other things I'm writing, I don't get a lot done.

oh well, enjoy (I hope)

Also, I apologize if I screwed up in naming the parts of the ship. I know very little about ships or sailing them.

* * *

Jack was attempting to teach Will to sail. I had more experience on ships than Will, and was doing my best to help. Jack didn't seem to mind working mostly by himself. But I knew he was quickly tiring of Will's constant nagging questions.

At one point Will turned his attention to his sword and silenced himself for a slight moment. Jack looked incredibly relieved. Will's silence only lasted about three minutes as she cleaned and sharpened his blade. Then he began to explained to Jack what he had told me about his past. I could sense in his voice that he was trying to draw a certain response or reaction from Jack. Jack was either oblivious, or was ignoring the fact. Will pushed harder.

"My father, Bill Turner," he pressured Jack, following him to the helm, "At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help." Jack was moving randomly about, more than likely trying to discourage Will, more tolerant than interested in what Will was saying. "Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter," Will continued. It was evident that now that Jack had helped, and had no way of turning back, Will was indeed going to press the matter until he got the response he wanted. As beating around the bush wasn't going to work, Will decided to try the direct approach. "I'm not a simpleton, Jack," he stated flatly, "You knew my father."

Jack hesitated a moment, as if weighing between he two evils of telling Will about his father, something which I already knew, or having to continue listening to Will. Finally, he spun to face us.

"I knew him," Jack confessed, "Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner." I saw the slight contraction of Will's brow at this. It deepened as Jack continued, "Everyone else just called him 'Bootstrap' or 'Bootstrap Bill'." With this, Jack turned his back on us again and walked away.

Will stood puzzled, his expression revealed his hope that Jack was lying. "Bootstrap?" he finally echoed.

Jack was removing the ropes that kept the helm in place. "Good man," Jack said affectionately, "Good pirate." Will looked up from his contemplations, his features arranged in an expression that was a mix of bewilderment and ire. Jack turned back to Will, "I swear you look just like him."

I though back to Jack's question when we first met him, 'You look somewhat familiar, have I threatened you before?' This, obviously, was where Jack knew Will from.

Will, typically for him, remained in steadfast and stubborn denial, "It's not true," he argued, "He was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law."

"Will," I said gently, "Sometimes you need to accept the answers you get to the questions you ask." I don't know if he actually heard me, if he did, he ignored me.

"He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag," Jack argued, rolling his eyes.

I saw the spark in Will's eyes as his anger ignited from bruised pride. There is a lot of work to be done here in the departments of humility, patience, and temper, I determined. Will pulled his sword free of his belt in one swift movement. Jack had turned his back on Will again, but I was sure he heard the blade come free. "My father was not a pirate!" Will warned dangerously.

"Jack knows what he's talking about, Will," I said sharply. Will shot me a deadly glance that had only one intended message – _Sheba, shut up_.

Jack was, obviously, not in the mood for Will's dramatics, "Put it away, son," he advised calmly, "It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me," Will argued back, "You ignored the rules of engagement." I had to laugh - _rules on how to kill each other, where's the point in that?_ "In a fair fight," Will continued, "I'd kill you."

That didn't phase Jack in the slightest, "That's not much incentive for me to fight fair then, is it?" he retorted sharply.

"He's got a point," I observed. Will turned to look at me, perhaps to ask me if I was crazy, and didn't see Jack spin the helm sharp to the right, swinging the boom line towards port, before Will had time to react; he had been caught up and was dangling out over the water. Will clung desperately the boom line, knowing it could be death to fall off. I floated on the other side, holding his arms fast in position. "I've got you," I assured him, "I'm not going let you fall, understand me?" Will gave me the best nod he could.

"Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention," Jack said casually, almost mockingly. Will, even with my help, was having a very hard time 'just hanging there'. I would've done more to help him, but I couldn't because explanations would require Will confessing my existence, which would get us both in trouble. "The only rules that matter are these:" Jack said in a more personal tone, "What a man can do, and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate _and_ a good man, or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that someday." Will stared at Jack with a sort of desperate look he could accept it, he just didn't want to. I didn't know what he would need to come to terms with more: the fact that his father was a pirate, or the fact that neither of his parents had ever told him, it hurt the most that he had been lied to. "Now me, for example," Jack continued, "I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga by my onesies, savvy?" Simply put, Jack was saying 'I could kill you, but I won't because it causes me trouble'. However, even if he could have sailed by himself, I figured that Jack wouldn't have killed Will anyways.

"So…" Jack swung to boom line back over the ship. As soon as it was safe, I let Will go and, his arms no longer able to support him, he fell to the deck on his back. Jack stood over him, pointing the tip of Will's own sword at his throat. "Can you sail under the command of a pirate?" Jack asked simply, he tossed the sword upward and caught it by the tip of the blade, offering Will the hilt, "Or can you not?"

Will hesitated a second, but blood and nature won out, and he took the sword from Jack. "Tortuga?" he asked, as a form of agreement.

"Tortuga," Jack repeated, a half smile playing its way across his face.

I smiled as Will started to walk away, "I'm very proud of you," I told him.

Will was thinking something over, "When I met you, Sheba, you said that I had the spirit to become a pirate," His eyes narrowed at me, "You knew, all along, didn't you?"

"I did," I confessed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I sighed, "Firstly because I'm not supposed to. You need to learn things for yourself in due time, Will. And also – would you have really wanted me to tell you the truth?" Will didn't answer, "I know what hurts for you isn't so much that your father was a pirate, but that he never told you. That he lied to you. That I lied to you when I didn't tell you. But he and I had the same reason, we didn't want to hurt you with the truth any sooner than was necessary. I'm not making excuses for my actions, or for his, but I want you to understand that." I looked into Will's eyes, "Please?"

"All right," Will murmured, "And you're right. I am angry that they never told me. I deserved to know."

"They probably meant to, Will, when they thought the time was right. When they thought you were old enough to understand. They just… never got the chance."

Will looked from me, to the ocean, and then to the deck beneath his feet. "So he is dead," Will concluded, "I had long thought so, but sometimes I would image that he was still alive somewhere. That perhaps he was searching for me." then Jack called for Will.

"We'll finish this later," I told him. I hated to stop Will from explaining, because it was painfully obvious that he wanted to talk, but it was needed. "I'll catch up with in a second," I added. Just one thing to do.

I didn't think I had been very long when Will emerged down the stairs to the cabin, "Sheba?" he called. He was holding his head in one hand.

"Will? What happened?"

"Got caught in the head by the ropes. Jack said to go down below and sit down, just in case it's bad." I put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to a berth.

"Let me see, Will," I coaxed gently. "Hmmm, doesn't look serious. But this makes twice in as many days." I moved my finger in front of his eyes, and he was able to follow it. "I think you'll be fine."

Will then noticed my clothing. I had changed from the dress into the pirate clothing underneath, hat and all. "Sheba, you're a…"

"Pirate? Yep, in a manner of speaking."

Will chuckled. "For a second, I was sure I had hit my head harder than I thought."

I smiled, "I may as well dress to the occasion."


	10. Hell and Heaven

I know that this is really short, but I wanted to get it up here quickly.

* * *

Will and Jack managed to get us to Tortuga by nightfall. If I had to sum the place up using a single phrase I would have to say 'where angels fear to tread', though my kind was in no short supply. I waved to a couple of them, who waved or nodded back. None looking too pleased with their present location. Pirates and wenches were running everywhere, pistols were being randomly shot; almost everyone was drunk. Will looked as if he would've preferred to drop out of this right then and there, but he held his head high as he followed Jack, who obviously knew this place as well as he knew his way around a ship. We were looking for a friend of his, he had said, who would be able to help.

"It is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep the sweet proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga. Savvy?" Jack asked Will as they walked. Will didn't quite have an answer to that. Jack, noting his shipmate's silence, asked directly, "What do you think?"

Will looked about him, "It'll linger," he finally determined politely.

"In more ways than one," I agreed, jumping back to avoid being crashed into by a drunken man.

"I'll tell you, mate, if every town in the world were like this, no man would ever feel unwanted," Jack boasted.

"That may be true," I remarked to Will, "However, I don't think the world would last very long if it were left in such condition."

It was at that moment that we were approached by a young red-haired woman who looked anything but pleased to see Jack. "Scarlett!" Jack exclaimed, hurrying to greet her.

Said Scarlett slapped Jack so hard across the face that his head was twisted back towards Will, Scarlett spun back around and left the way she'd come. "I'm not sure I deserve that," Jack said to Will. Will arched an eyebrow but said nothing. I smiled to myself.

Another woman approached us, a blonde, who looked as angry as Scarlett, "Giselle," Jack greeted her.

"Who was she?" Giselle asked in a slight accent.

"What?" Jack asked. Giselle slapped Jack as hard, if not harder, than Scarlett, and she too stormed off. "I may have deserved that," Jack admitted. Will smiled, and I outright laughed.

Jack had soon put both women behind him, I figured that this was nothing new to him, and had located his friend, who was sound asleep. He was also sleeping with three rather large pigs.

Jack sighed slightly, and instructed Will to fetch a bucket of water. Will and I left to do just that.

"Is Hell like this?" Will asked me as we managed to locate two buckets, and looked for a well.

"Hell is more organized," I replied. Will chuckled.

"Though, I guess, to a pirate," Will mused, "This would be Heaven."

"Everything is indeed but a matter of perspective," I agreed, "Will, we're going to get lost before we find a well anywhere, here." I held my hands over the buckets, and filled them with water. Will looked utterly shocked. "I can turn it into wine if you'd like," I joked.

"You can do that?"

"Sure"

"You'd be better off turning it into rum," Will said, looking around, my turn to laugh.

Will and I actually did get lost briefly before we managed to return to Jack. "What took ye so long?" Jack demanded.

"Misadventure," Will replied, "A wrong turn."

"You'll get your bearings soon enough," Jack assured him. He took one of the buckets from Will, and liberally flung its contents over the sleeping man. Both he and the pigs woke immediately as the cold water hit them. The pigs began squealing their protest, and so did he.

"Curse you for breathing you slack-jawed idiot!" He exclaimed, brandishing a long knife. Then he recognized Jack and his face changed. "Mother's love! Jack!" Jack grinned slightly. "You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleepin'," Jack's friend continued, "Its bad luck."

"Ah," Jack said, beaming, "Fortunately, I know how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it while he listens to a proposition from the man who did the waking."

The older man stared at Jack a long moment, trying to sort that out. I had trouble sorting that out. Finally it was obvious that the only thing that made sense to him was that Jack was going to buy him a mug of rum, to which he replied, "Aye, that'll about do it." Jack helped him to his feet.

When Jack had stepped out of the way, Will soaked the man with the other bucket of water. He stopped, and shook his head like a dog to fling off some of the water. "Blast! I'm already awake!" he yelled at Will.

"That was for the smell," Will admitted. Jack looked at Will. Will looked at Jack. Both of them looked at the dripping wet man, who shrugged slightly and nodded.

Jack introduced his friend as Mr. Gibbs, a hardened sea-dog, and his close personal friend. One of few, I was sure. Jack didn't seem the type to allow himself many friends, or even many acquaintances. Mr. Gibbs led the way to a small tavern, where, he said, to rum was excellent, as was the company. I raised my eyebrows.

Will followed a pace behind the two pirates, side-stepping drunken men coming out of the tavern. He had already adapted Jack's ability to weave his way effortlessly through the streets.

"We'll make a pirate out of you, yet," I joked to Will, who turned to me and smiled.


	11. A Matter of Leverage

Ahoy, Mates! (kidding, kidding) I hope you enjoy this next chapter. the end is just something a friend and I made up. Thanks to Robin for playing Ginger.

* * *

Inside the tavern, Will stationed himself against a wooden pillar. His eyes swept over the company assembled. Most of the men were fighting randomly. Probably over imagined slights and insults. Will looked rather nervous in my eyes, although his face was firmly set. 

Jack was bartering two mugs of rum down to the lowest price he could get; he seemed to be very pleased with himself when he did buy them. Before sitting down with Mr. Gibbs, he paused beside Will, "Keep a sharp eye," he advised.

"And your wits about you," I added. Will nodded slightly in recognition of both of us.

I stayed close to Will, but hung back just far enough that I could eavesdrop on Jack and Mr. Gibbs. They were both seated at a small table at the back, just out of earshot for Will, unless he were to listen closely, which would be difficult in this ruckus.

"Now, what's the nature of this venture of your'n?" Gibbs asked Jack, raising his mug to his lips.

"I'm going after the _Black Pearl_," Jack said matter-of-factly. Gibbs nearly choked on his rum. "I know where it's going to be, _and _I'm gonna take it," Jack declared confidently.

"Jack, it's a fool's errand," Gibbs objected, "Why, you know better than me the tales of the Black Pearl." He winked slightly, indicating something shared between the two of them, a story or secret.

"That's why I know what Barbossa's up to. All I need is a crew." Jack countered.

"Will," I asked, elbowing him gently in the ribs to get his attention, "Are you listening to them?" Will nodded slightly to me, trying not to give the two pirates any reason to believe that he was listening to them.

Gibbs wasn't going to have his warning silence so easily, "From what I hear tell of Captain Barbossa, he's not a man to suffer fools, nor strike a bargain with one."

"Well, then I say it's a very good thing I'm not a fool then, eh," Jack said. Jack wasn't a fool, I knew, he was very clever. However he was obviously also very stubborn, which was sometimes worse. Still, persistence was a virtue – to a point.

"Prove me wrong," Gibbs argued, eyes narrowing, "What makes you think Barbossa will give up his ship to you?"

"Let's just say it's a matter of leverage, eh?" Jack suggested. Will heard the word 'leverage', and turned his head slightly towards Jack. I could see him mentally making connections. Quietly, Will turned back to surveying the room. A…rather overweight prostitute came up to Will and started hitting on him. Will glanced at me for help, I returned an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Will, nothing I can do."

Will gave me a 'you're-a-lot-of-help' look, and then fixed his gaze across the room. Then woman also was drunk and stumbled, placing her weight on Will and nearly knocking him over. I turned back to Jack, who was trying to gesture to Will with his head and eyes. Gibbs wasn't getting it, and Jack looked like he was having a strange kind of seizure. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing at Jack's hilarious attempts. Finally, something clicked in Gibbs' mind.

"The kid?"

Jack's expression was one of 'it-took-you-long-enough', before saying, "That is the child of Bootstrap Bill Turner," Jack explained in a low, almost dangerous voice, "His only child. Savvy?" Jack smiled, teeth glinting in the candlelight.

"Is he now?" Gibbs said, intrigued, "'Leverage', says you, 'I think I feel a change in the wind', says I." Will's…admirer had finally given up and moved offwith someone more interested. Jack and Gibbs were both almost glowing with the prospect of the voyage they were discussing. "I'll find us a crew," Gibbs determined almost ecstatically, "There's bound to be some sailors on this rock crazy as you."

"One can only hope," Jack joked; he lifted his mug in a toast, "Take what you can…"

"Give nothin' back!" Gibbs finished, clanking his mug against Jack's. They both drained the last of the rum in one swallow, and slammed the mugs back down on the table.

Jack wasn't done enjoying the evening, and the rum, so he called Will over, gave him a few shillings, and told him that there was an inn in the next street, where he was known by the innkeeper. "Just tell her that you be getting a room for yerself and Cap'n Jack Sparrow and she'll understand," he told Will. "I'll be along shortly."

Will nodded, and the two of us left together.

"I hope this woman likes him," Will muttered to me as we walked, dodging drunken pirates.

"Likewise," I replied, shooting a good six feet into the air to avoid three pirates chasing a prostitute.

"I may have to take you up on that offer of wine, Sheba," Will confessed, "Maybe it'll nurse the headache I've got coming on."

I nodded as I alighted on the ground beside him. Will spotted the inn and we entered.

A portly woman in a crimson dress was standing behind a low table, "Well 'ello" she greeted Will, "I'm Ginger. Wot can I do for ye, Love?"

"I need a room for myself and Captain Jack Sparrow," Will said.

"Really? Jack's back in Tortuga?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Ginger laughed, "Not 'Ma'am', Love, Ginger. No need to be polite 'ere. There's a room on the top floor that Jack usually takes, two beds and a basin. Cost ye four shillings for the night."

Will put the money on the table, and Ginger pocketed it. "All right, Love," she said taking a lit candle, "Follow me."

As Will and I followed her up the staircase, Ginger asked Will how he'd come to know Jack. "That's a long story," Will replied.

"Ha!" Ginger laughed. She had a hoarse, yet booming laugh. "Aren't they all, Love? And now that it enters my mind, Love, wot be yer name?"

"Will Turner."

"You don't say?" Ginger asked, turning part way around to look at him, her expression was a combination of amusement and suspicion. "Oh well, 'ere be yer room, Mister Turner. When Jack comes I'll send 'im up."

"Thank-you very much," Will said as Ginger opened the door.

"Goodnight, Mister Turner."

"Goodnight, Miss Ginger," Will said with a polite nod. Ginger laughed again, turned, and headed back down the staircase.

Inside the room, Will sank onto one of the two beds and flopped backwards across it's width, exhausted. "One day, Sheba? That's all it's been?"

"Yes, doesn't feel like it does it?"

"Feels like eternity."

"Well, I dare say that your accommodations have improved over last night," I joked, referring to the fact that Will had spent last night unconscious on the road. Will nodded and chuckled slightly, then his brow furrowed, and he put one hand to his head with a slight groan of pain.

"Nnn, my head."

I rested one hand against Will's forehead, and focused. Will's face relaxed, before expressing amazement. "The pain's gone, how'd you do that?"

"Angels, like magicians, never reveal their secrets."

"Nor do pirates."

"Before you judge, Will, I would ask you to recall _your _actions today."

Will smiled, "You have a point, but still, I feel that Jack is plotting something."

"That's what Jack does," I pointed out.

Will sighed and ran his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. Just then the door opened, and Jack, reeking of rum and looking entirely drunk, staggered into the room, trying, very loudly, to sing, and managing to mix up all the lines of the song, before they dissolved into incomprehensible babbling. Will jumped up to help him, and nearly changed his mind when he realized just how heavily Jack stank of rum. Holding his breath, Will helped Jack stagger to the bed, when Jack reached it, he simply fell over and fell asleep instantly. Will stepped back and straightened his clothes slightly. I couldn't help giggling.

Will raised an eyebrow, "That was entertaining," he said, half sarcastic, half truthful.

"It was," I agreed, still giggling slightly.

Will took off his shoes and hisvest and scarfand lay down on the other bed, "Goodnight, Sheba."

I nodded, "Pleasant dreams, Will," I said, reaching to extinguish the single candle burning in the room. I touched a fingertip to the flame, and it went out, casting darkness into the room. Jack was snoring loudly, and endeavoring to sing in his sleep. However, fatigue had won up for Will, and he, too, was asleep. I sat on the floor, leaning my back against the foot of Will's bed, and waited for the dawn, though I knew it would come all too soon.


	12. Emotions

Firstly, thanks to Clymestra for suggesting the idea used at the end of the story.

This chapter was titled by my friend Michael, because it goes from a very heartfelt conversation between Will and Sheba, to Anamaria being angry with Jack, to Sheba cracking Will up.

Please read, enjoy, and post reviews!

* * *

Dawn came quickly, though it woke neither pirate. I had come to consider Will a pirate because that's what he was. He just had to finish getting used to the idea. 

I let Will sleep until the sun had cleared the horizon, which took less time than I had expected. Then I rose to my feet, stretching stiffened limbs as I did so. Jack was heavily asleep; I don't think the end of the world would've woken him. I shook Will's shoulder gently. "Will?"

His response was an incoherent sound, but he opened his eyes. "Morning, Will."

Will groaned at the concept, and sat up slowly. For a moment he seemed confused as to where he was, then I saw realization enter his eyes as yesterday came back to him. He groaned again. "Good morning, Sheba," he muttered, following it with a yawn. "Isn't it awfully early?"

"Not really. You slept like the dead."

"I don't feel that far from being one of them."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Will a sympathetic look. "Rough night?"

"Strange dreams," Will explained, "About my father." He ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it back from his eyes. "I still can't accept that he was a pirate, Sheba. I know it's true, but…" he paused and continued in a soft whisper, "I don't want it to be true."

"It's hard to consider that your father was different than what you always held him to be," I acknowledged, "But 'different', Will, doesn't mean 'less."

"Did you know him?"

"No, I didn't." I admitted, "But I've heard a lot about him, talked with angels who at least knew about him." While I talked Will reached for and donned the articles of clothing he had removed the night before.

"I don't remember him very well." He said, speaking of his father.

"He was a pirate _and_ a good person, Will. A man of strong character. He only ever wanted the best for you, and you made him very proud."

Will's eyes lit up for a brief moment at that.

We were interrupted by Jack moaning in agony as he awoke to a blistering headache. He stared up at the ceiling a minute as he recalled as much as he could of last night. Finally, a grin broke out across his face. Not a ridiculous grin at the memory of enjoying himself immensely in the tavern, but a wicked, plotting grin as he remembered what he was doing here. He sat up and turned towards us.

"Ahh, young mister Turner, this shall be the first day of a voyage that will reward us greatly at its close."

"Is that so?" Will asked.

Jack stared at him a moment, either not understanding or not knowing how to respond, "It is," he said finally. Will shrugged and stood up to go.

Jack stood up a little too quickly and almost fell over. His headache seemed to have disappeared, but he was still suffering the effects of a hangover. Will reached out to steady him.

"I'm all right," Jack said, as he found his balance, he marched for the door with Will and I in tow.

Jack and Will met up with Gibbs on the docks. During the course of the night, Gibbs had indeed managed to find a crew. A very interesting and oddly assorted menagerie of sailors was lined up on the dock for Jack's inspection. Gibbs was glowing with pride in his achievement.

"Feast you eyes, Captain!" he invited as Jack and Will scrutinized his questionable collection of pirates. "All of them faithful hands before the mast. Every man worth his salt." There was a slight pause before Gibbs added, "And crazy to boot."

"I'll believe that," I said to Will.

Will agreed with me, he leaned close to Jack's ear and said quietly, "So…_this_ is your able-bodied crew?"

Jack didn't reply, but I could tell his mind was working. His expression was one of thought as he tried to figure out some way to convince us. He stopped at one of the pirates, and older man, whose beard had begun to grey. A large blue and gold Macaw was perched on his shoulder.

"You, sailor," he addressed the man.

"Cotton, sir," Gibbs told him.

Jack took a bit of a breath, "Mr. Cotton, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?" he demanded. His words came out so fast that they almost seemed to run together. It took me a moment to grasp what he had said.

The pirate didn't offer any reply. I was wondering whether he had understood any of what Jack was saying.

"Mr. Cotton, answer man!" Jack ordered.

"He's a mute, sir," Gibbs explained, "Poor devil had his tongue cut out." Cotton responded to that by opening his mouth in proof. Jack winched in disgust. Will looked slightly uncomfortable. I had seen worse…_much_ worse. "So he trained the parrot to talk for him," Gibbs continued, "No one's yet figured how."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically, but kept my thoughts to myself.

Jack seemed to be having a hard time processing that, he turned to continue walking, after a moment he turned back to the sailor, "Mr. Cotton's …parrot," he addressed with uncertain awkwardness. The bird, which had turned away, turned to face Jack upon being addressed. Jack paused a moment, and seemed unable to remember, or at least unwilling to repeat, what he had just said, so instead substituted, "Same question."

The bird squawked loudly before determining, "Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!"

Will looked astonished that the bird had indeed answered the question. He stared wide-eyed at it, as if unable to believe it quite. Jack looked at Gibbs for a translation, "Mostly we figure, that means 'yes'."

"Of course it does," Jack said. He had the positive answer he had been looking for so he could attempt to convince Will. Other than that, he didn't care. "Satisfied?" he questioned Will.

"Well you've proved they're mad," Will said, his faith in Jack's new crew obviously no stronger.

"And what's the benefit for us?" came a voice – a female voice – from somewhere down the line. Jack's expression said he knew the voice, and was not happy to hear it.

The pirate captain walked down to the end of the line, to where a pirate stood, wearing a hat that hid the entire face from view. Jack attempted to look under the brim, but was either unable to do so, or unsuccessful in attempting to identify the individual behind it.

Looking nearly terrified, Jack seized the brim and lifted it, revealing the wearer to be a young African woman. She looked nearly murderous. Jack removed the hat altogether, causing the black hair tucked up inside it to spill down her back.

"Anamaria," Jack said, not sounding too happy to see her. His voice had a trace of a '_please-don't-kill-me'_ tone.

Anamaria's response was to slap Jack across the face – making this the third time by as many women in under twenty-four hours.

"I suppose you didn't deserve that one either," Will asked mockingly.

"No," Jack confessed, "That one I deserved."

"You stole my boat!" Anamaria accusedin threatening tone.

"Actually…" Jack tried to defend himself, before he could get another word out; Anamaria silenced him with another slap across the face. For a reason even I wasn't sure of, I was highly impressed with the she-pirate, mostly for in no way, shape, or form allowing Jack to take advantage of her.

Jack was reeling from the second blow, once he had recollected himself, he launched back into his explanation, "Borrowed! Borrowed without permission! But…with every intention of bringing it back to you."

Will was squinting at Anamaria, but his expression held the sincerity Jack's was missing as he tried to find a way out of trouble. He was very calm.

"But you didn't!" Anamaria continued her accusation.

I saw a slight panic flit across Jack's face, and knew that he couldn't produce the boat at all. It had been lost, sunk, something. However, Jack's quick mind came to his aid, "You'll get another one!" he promised.

Anamaria was in no mood for lies, she pointing one finger threateningly at Jack, "I will," she declared in a low, dangerous voice, not unlike the voice Jack had used to try and scare Will when they first met.

"A better one," Will offered, leaning in around Jack.

"Will," I cautioned.

Jack liked the idea though, "A better one!" he echoed gleefully. He felt that he was getting out of trouble easily. I didn't think so.

Will, still wanting to help, pointed down the dock, "That one," he added.

"What one?" Jack demanded, turning on Will. Will nodded down the dock towards the _Interceptor._ After all, once Jack got back his _Pearl_, what need had he for two ships?

"That one!" Jack exclaimed, Will gave a nodded, and a look, that said 'do-you-have-a-better-idea?' It took a second for that to dawn on Jack, but in the end he agreed with Will. "What say you?" he asked Anamaria, who was contemplating it.

"Aye!" she determined, and the rest of the crew took up the cry. They moved for the boats to row out to the Interceptor. Anamaria yanked her hat right out of Jack's hands before heading off. Jack looked as if he were counting his blessings.

Down the dock, Mr. Cotton's parrot was calling out "Anchors aweigh!"

"No, no, no, no, no" Gibbs protested, "Its frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir." I glared at him.

Jack swung his head back and upwards to look at the sky, where clouds were beginning to gather. "It'll be far worse not to have her." he determined, before turning for the boats.

Gibbs and Will stared at the sky; I knew already what was brewing in those clouds. I licked my lips nervously. "Storm's coming," I told Will, who nodded. I didn't mention how bad a storm. _As long as they don't turn green_, I thought to myself.

Once aboard the Interceptor, I had a sudden, rather amusing, idea. "Will," I giggled mischievously, catching his attention, "Watch this!"

Lifting myself off the ground, I floated a foot or so above the deck of the ship, floating just above Jack Sparrow. I was waiting for the precise moment. I glanced at Will, he frowned as if to ask _'Sheba-what-in-Heaven's-name-are-you-doing?'_

When Jack turned the other way, I seized his hat off his head and quickly propelled myself backwards and up. Tossing the hat in a way that made it spin, so that it seemed to be bouncing and turning cartwheels in the air. Jack's eyes went wide, and his jaw literally dropped open. I moved up and down in the air, still backing up, though now more slowly. I started spinning Jack's hat around on my forefinger. Jack's eyes went wider, he look as though he was seeing a ghost, maybe he though he was. Once I reached the railing, I carefully set the hat down on the deck near it, and floated back to Will's side, giggling like an idiot.

Jack crouched beside the hat, grimacing slightly. He poked the hat a couple times, perhaps making sure it was safe, before gingerly taking it in one hand. He got to his feet.

"Strange air currents around here," Will said, keeping a remarkably straight face.

Jack looked form the hat in his hand, to Will, then back to the hat. "Indeed," he concluded. He placed the hat on his head, adjusting it just so, and returned to where he'd been working before. Once his back was turned, Will let his straight face dissolve, and had to cover his mouth so as not to start laughing like a maniac.

"Sheba," he whispered to me, "Sheba, that was priceless."

"I thought you needed some cheering up," I said, still giggling.

Will nodded slightly, and motioned down the length of the ship, to where Jack had removed his hat, and was staring at the inside of it intently. No doubt he was looking for an explanation as to why it had seemingly taken on a life of its own. Will and I looked at each other, and started laughing again.

* * *

AN: This chapter had to be removed and re-posted becase of multiple (seven actually) spelling, gramatical, and tense errors. Shows that I should not work at two in the morning. 


	13. Playing Jokes

After my last chapter, I recieved reviews requesting more pranks from Sheba, and I hate to disappoint. It took a little while to come up with anything for her to do to poor Jack Sparrow, but I did try. I also did my best to give an angelic summary of the nature of Morph's spirit, who, if you will remember, was noticed by Sheba in the jail, and has been making herself known off and on. I'm not sure I did so great... Anyway's, Morph, you have my apologies.

Enjoy, feel free to laugh (that's why I wrote the bloody chapter!)

* * *

Having reached my goal of amusing Will, I was in no real mood to stop annoying and inconveniencing Jack Sparrow. I saw my opportunity when Jack, having returned to the helm, signaled Will forward.

"Make yourself useful," he instructed, handing him a spyglass, "Keep a weather eye to the north, storm's on the move."

Will stood behind Jack, raising the spyglass to his eye, sweeping the horizon in all directions; I stood with him, leaning on the rail and staring out across the seemingly endless expanse of water. When Jack had wandered off in search of something, Will glanced at me and whispered, "Any other tricks up your sleeve, Sheba?'

"Always," I replied, and thought for a moment. "Remember I told you I can turn water into wine?" Will nodded. "Well," I continued, motioning to Jack who was returning with a glass bottle, "I can reverse that too."

Will looked from me to Jack, and a smile spread across his face.

Jack didn't immediately uncork the bottle however, so I decided to bide my time with something else. Jack was flipping through charts scattered on a low table, even though I knew he didn't need them. All he needed was the compass, which he'd removed from his belt and set down near the papers. I placed one hand on the compass and slid it down the table towards me. Jack's brow furrowed, and he slid the compass back to where it had been originally. I waited a second, and did it again. I glanced up at Will, who was watching out of the corner of his eye, smiling to himself.

Jack replaced the compass again. This time I didn't wait to move it. Jack paused what he was doing, staring intently at the compass. He picked it up, flipped it open, examined it thoroughly, closed it again, and set it down. As soon as his hand was off it, I pulled it back down the table. Jack actually stumbled back a step from the table as if it had leapt up and attacked him; he shook his head as if to clear it, and then hesitantly returned to the table. He stooped and examined the legs and underside and found it to be at a slight slant in my direction, and determined that the compass was slipping down.

Once Jack returned to work, I had another idea. I moved the compass slightly, to get his attention, then pulled it towards me, moving my hand in a wide loop as I did so to make the compass loop around in a circle before coming to a stop at the edge of the table. Jack's eyes went as wide as saucers.

Will stepped in at that moment. "Jack," He asked, "Are you all right? You look as though you've seen a ghost." I had to giggle.

Jack turned to point at the compass, but while he was paying attention to Will, I had discretely moved it back. Jack looked around, saw the compass sitting where it had been the initially, and looked at it with both fear and confusion. He recovered himself quickly.

"Fine, fine, perfectly fine. Why aren't you using that?" he motioned to the spyglass in Will's hands.

"Aye, Captain," Will said good-naturedly, returning to where he'd been before. He gave me a wink as he passed.

Once Will's back was turned, although he continued to watch us out of the corner of his eye, Jack bent down until the compass was at his eye-level. Without touching it, he scrutinized it for several long moments. Then he rose, and gingerly reached out and poked it as one might poke a snake to see if it would attack. He pulled his hand back as soon as it came into contact with the metal. I stood a pace back from the table, watching with amusement. Jack turned his back, then instantly spun back around and jumped at the compass, which sat motionless.

Jack paused; head tipped back thoughtfully, and contemplated things for a second. Then, he reached for the bottle of rum and took a long swallow. I waited a moment as he paused to take a deep breath, before raising the bottle once more to his lips. I reached out and touched the heavy glass with one finger. The rum inside the bottle instantly turned into water. Jack pulled the bottle back the instant the liquid entered his mouth. He closed one eye and attempted to squint down into the bottle with the other, but the thick, dirty glass didn't allow enough light. He sniffed the bottle's contents, and then went to take another drink. Just as the bottle reached his mouth, I touched it again gently, turning the water back into rum. Jack smiled slightly, and took a very long drink, draining almost the entire bottle.

Staring thoughtfully at the bottle for a moment afterward, Jack concluded that "water must've gotten in," and had partially diluted the rum. I returned to Will's side. He had climbed a slight ways up into the rigging to be able to see farther.

As I walked across the deck, I felt as though I passed through a 'cloud' of energy. I emerged from it, as it was no bigger than I was, tingling slightly yet unscathed. I smiled, _ahh, so that's what you are_. The presence I had dubbed to be Jack's 'friend', as it stuck close to him, was one of the few non-angelic and non-demonic multi-realm sprits. A spirit invisible to all except probably God and whatever human it was supposed to show itself to, capable of accessing multiple levels of existence in time and space, and not so different from myself. No doubt he or she was working with Jack the same way I was working with Will. It didn't seem to react, so I figured he/she hadn't noticed what had just happened.

"I sense your intentions to be pure," I murmured, even though the spirit couldn't hear me, "God bless your efforts, and protect you in them." Then I continued on my way to meet up with Will.

Will turned to me with a grin as I perched myself in the rigging beside him, "Are all angels this much fun?"

"Not really, I'm not supposed to do that. Interact with people other than you, that is. But it's too much fun to pass up."

"I'm glad you didn't pass it up," Will said, his voice dying away as he looked north. I followed his gaze. You didn't need a spyglass to see and understand the ominous black clouds hanging over the horizon. "Not good," Will muttered, then turned back to me, "Think it's headed this way?"

I nodded, "It's gonna hit us, and hard."

Will clambered down the rigging in a frenzy. "Captain Sparrow! Storm abaft! Storm clouds off the stern, coming in fast."

Jack turned to look, "We can weather that, Mr. Turner," he said calmly, then to the crew, "We hold steady, with sails out!"

"Aye!" called the crew, including Will and myself. Jack instructed Will to help secure the cannons, which were known to come loose in storms. I assigned myself to helping Will.

"Jack's fool not to find shelter," I determined.

"He knows what he's doing," Will argued through clenched teeth.

"I certainly hope so," I replied as I helped Will with the ropes. I tried to have faith in Jack Sparrow, but this decision to hold course was making it waiver.


	14. Tempest

What exactly made me write this chapter is unknown as of yet. I like it, personally. There is no mention I know of in anything that has to do with this movie that talks about Will and Sheba's adventure, but it kinda wrote itself.

Oh, yeah, I forgot from my last chapter, the word 'abaft' is not a spelling error. It may be a terminology error, but it is an actual word, meaning off or behind the stern of a boat. So when Will said the storm was abaft, it means that the storm was coming from behind them.

* * *

The storm hit us in under an hour, typhoon winds capable of taking a ship apart tore at the sails while waves lashed at the ship, sweeping over the deck and threatening to pull unfortunate sailors overboard. Lightning lit the sky in brilliant flashes; the only light there was for the clouds were so dark you could not tell sea from sky. The sea seemed intent on claiming victory over the ship, which was struggling to stay afloat. The entire crew was giving their all. Glancing up, I saw Jack standing calmly at the helm, seeming not to feel the wind or rain. He was keeping course very carefully, by use of his compass. I had stolen a glance at it earlier. We were traveling south, but the compass pointed straight ahead. My first thought was that it was broken, or that my sense of direction was somehow wrong. But I had a feeling that my senses, and Jack's compass, were working just fine.

I was helping Will and Gibbs to keep the sails from blowing away. Wincing against a rope that dug into my palms, I tried to anchor myself against the slippery wet wood of the deck. A huge wave washed up over the rail and sent the three of us all the way across the deck of the ship and into the railing opposite. As the wave receded, we all clambered to our feet. That was the fifth wave in twice as many minutes that had knocked us over like bowling pins. Will and I got up easily; Gibbs had a little more trouble. Will grabbed the rope and was pulling it into place before Gibbs or I could grasp it.

Will was completely outside anything he'd ever been in before, but the fact that there was seafaring blood in him was showing. He learned quickly and easily, and could sometimes do things before he was told how to do them. He already seemed at home on the deck of a ship.

I could tell that Gibbs had once been like Will, but that age was slowing him down. That and drink. He had been a sailor, and a pirate, when Will was a boy; he had years of experience battling the fury of the ocean, but was becoming stout and stiff in the joints. Still, he was a good sailor and crewmate, who was teaching Will the ins and outs of sailing as they went.

I glanced again at Jack, who looked completely comfortable, if not pleased, with the situation. His stance was confident, strong. He was staring down the wrath of nature without batting an eye.

"How can we sail to an island that nobody can find," Will yelled to Gibbs over the ghastly moan of the wind and the deafening roar of the surf, "With a compass that doesn't work?"

"Aye," Gibbs replied confidently, "The compass doesn't point _north_. But," he added with a grin, "We're not trying to find north are we?"

Jack was steering vigorously, the water that was collecting in his hat sloshing out of the sides whenever he moved. Gibbs struggled his way up to the helm to tell Jack that we should drop canvas.

Unable to hear Jack's reply, I endeavored to read his face, and his lips. I couldn't make out any exact words, but I could tell he disagreed. I heard Gibbs ask him a question, but his words were drowned out by the howl of the wind.

Jack was grinning like one half mad as he replied, this time I could understand the last two words: '_catching up'_.

Lightning flashed, we couldn't hear the thunder over the crashing waves. Will and I were working as hard and fast as we could, sliding on the wet planks, constantly almost being swept or blown away. Will was doing the work of two men, and I was doing my best to help.

As we strained the ropes against the wind, I lifted my head to stare into the clouds. We were in the heart of the tempest, and only the Grace of God was keeping us from being torn apart or capsized. Will slid and crashed into me, I released the rope with one hand, and used it to brace him. Will easily caught his footing and reclaimed a grasp on the rope, "One, two, three – Heave!" I shouted, and we both pulled hard. The rope strained the other way, and I could feel myself sliding. I pulled back until my shoulders ached. Not enough, I pitched forward towards the rail….

I stopped suddenly, and realized that Will was holding the rope with one hand, his other arm looped around my waist. "We look out for each other!" he yelled to me over the din.

I nodded, "Thank-you!" I shouted back, I stabilized myself, putting one foot on the rail, and pulled as hard as I could. Will managed to get it tied off.

I heard a noise, and turned my head, "Will? How tightly did you lash the cannons?"

"What? Why?" Will hollered over the storm. He followed my gaze: one of the cannons on deck was sliding through the ropes. "Hell!" Will exclaimed, scrambling to secure it. "I thought it would hold!" Will yelled to me as we fought to restrain the loose cannon.

"Me too!" I yelled back. The ship rolled, and the cannon slid back into place under its own steam. Will and I had it lashed there in seconds, knots tied so tightly that they would probably have to be cut afterward to be undone.

Will reached for my hand for support, "How long, do you think, until we're in the clear?"

"I have no idea where we are or how wide the storm is," I cried back, "Could be hours."

"She can't take much more of this."

_I know_, I thought fretfully, _please, Father, get us through this_. My faith rested not only in my Lord, a great deal of it now rested with Captain Jack Sparrow – that he could safely steer us through this tempest.

Just then I heard a snapping sound, "Will! Get down!" I yelled, leaping over the cannon to shove him to the ground as a broken rope sailed by, it missed Will, but caught the back of my head. I screamed in pain and fell to the deck.

"Sheba!" Will exclaimed.

"I'm fine," I insisted, even though I could feel blood running down the back of my head and neck and my vision was blurred. "We've got to fix it." Will offered me his hand to get me to my feet. _We look out for each other_.

"You saved me," he yelled.

"That's my job," I replied. I touched the back of my head, it was sticky and felt like it was on fire, but the rain would wash the blood away, even before it simply faded away. It took me several seconds to regain my balance and for my vision to clear. Will held my shoulder, waiting until I was all right on my own.

"That hurt," I admitted as my sight returned. Will was holding the broken rope in one hand. "I'll take it," I offered. I would have to go up the rigging, almost to the top of the mast, to repair the damage.

Will shook his head, "I'm going with you."

"It's too dangerous," I argued.

Will was insistent, "I'm not letting you go without me."

"Will," I shouted, "Its suicide. I can't risk your life."

"What am _I_ supposed to do? Let you face death alone?" Will asked me. Echoing my exact words when I had insisted on helping him fight off the pirates that invaded Port Royal.

I sighed, "All right, Will. But stick close."

"No worries there," Will assured me; we both grabbed the rope and made for the rigging. I went first, because if I fell, I could catch myself. I didn't risk flying and being blown away, so I climbed.

"You're mad!" Anamaria yelled at Will, her voice barely reaching us over the thundering of the storm.

"Without this rope, the sails can't hold!" Will called back. Anamaria shook her head, and went back to what she was doing. I saw Jack watching us. He was staring at Will reminiscently, and also with pride. I shook my head, focusing on getting up to the top.

The going was slow and treacherous. Often we had to stop and just hang on as the wind threatened to tear us loose. The beating rain had soaked the rope, making it hard to hold onto. Inch by inch, rung by rung, we made our way up. My feet slipped twice, but my hands held and I was able to regain my footing.

Suddenly I heard Will yell, he had slipped and the entire right side of his body was suspended dangerously in the air. He was hanging on for dear life with his left hand, which also happened to be the hand he was holding the broken rope with. He was precariously balanced on his left foot. "Will!" I screamed, climbing back down until I was closer, "Will!"

Will was struggling, trying to swing his body closer to the rigging, but he risked loosing his grip with any sudden movements. I had only one choice. I swung myself around the ropes like an acrobat so that I was hanging from the underside, facing Will. I climbed down until we were eye to eye. I closed my right hand over his left. "I'm not going to let you fall!" I told him, my voice strained from yelling over the shrieking winds. I had promised him this before. "Understand me? I've got you, Will. I'm right here."

Glancing down, I saw that most of the crew, including Jack, were watching in absolute horror. I looked at Will, who was winching in pain and terror. His mouth moved, forming my name, but I couldn't hear his voice. "I'm here, Will," I cried again, "Swing your body closer to me!" I extended my hand through the rope, reaching for his other hand, "I'm holding you, Will, _swing_!"

Will tried, and the jarring of his body caused his left foot to slip. He jerked, almost lost his grip on the rope, and I almost dropped him. Now he was hanging by one hand several meters above the deck, being wrenched about by the wind. I could see his fingers slipping. I caught his left arm with both hands, pulling with everything I had.

The advantage was that Will had swung face first into the rigging when he lost his footing. Raising his right hand, he managed to grab the rope. I seized his other arm as he managed to place his feet on the ropes. Once Will was back on the rigging, we stayed there a moment, allowing Will to catch his breath. He stared at me gratefully through the rigging. Then, he began climbing upwards again.

I circled around the net to climb ahead of him; from the deck we heard several cheers from the crew. Finally, we made it to the top. Will and I balanced ourselves on either side of where the stump of the broken rope was being made deadly by the wind. If it hit either of us, it would knock us off balance and send us crashing to the deck. Will held the rope we'd brought up the rigging, and I managed to subdue the still attached end. Working together, we tied them in a knot that would hold until judgment day.

Now came the really hard part, getting back down the ropes. It wasn't the climbing so much as the fact that we had to go backwards. "I'll go first," Will determined, "So if I fall I don't take you down with me."

I had a different idea, "We go down together!" I insisted, "You go down the top side, I'll climb underneath. Inch for inch, face to face. That way we can catch each other should we need to."

Will nodded, and swung himself onto the rigging, I slid underneath, "Ready?" he asked, I nodded nervously, "Go!" Will determined, and we started inching our way down.

It took longer to get down because we couldn't see where we were going. We slipped several times because we didn't know where to put our feet. My arms ached from hanging upside down. In the middle, I was sure they were going to give way. I stopped moving, I was in too much pain. Will stopped directly across from me. "Sheba?"

"I can't move anymore, Will," I gasped as loudly as I could, "My arms are going to give out."

"No, they're not. I'm not going anywhere without you!" he reached though the rigging, and grabbed both my arms. He was laying on his stomach, bracing himself with his feet, holding up most of my body weight. "And I won't let you fall!"

That was all the encouragement I needed. I nodded to Will, and slid my arms from his grasp, ignoring how my shoulders burned as I prepared to keep climbing. "You didn't have to stop for me."

"You saved my life twice today, I owe you at least this much."

We started climbing downwards again. It was still slow going; the wind nearly tore us from the ropes multiple times. Will and I shouted encouragements at each other as we struggled the last few feet to the deck. When our feet finally touched the solid wood below, we both collapsed from exhaustion. Gibbs yelled to Anamaria to take Will down below. I moved with him as best I could. Every part of my body ached; my head, even though the wound was long since healed, still pounded with pain.

Anamaria left Will in one of the cabins that would've been reserved for the higher officers. He insisted he was fine, but she told him on no uncertain terms he was staying right there. "You could've died!" she told him multiple times, "What in Heaven's name were you thinking?"

"I'm not sure I was thinking," Will admitted. "But…I've got someone looking out for me."

"You better be sure He's watching before you pull anymore stunts," Anamaria snapped as she left.

Once we were alone Will and I embraced each other tightly, "I have never been so scared," Will confessed.

"I have never had so crazy an assignment," I teased, "But thank-you, Will, for going up there. I couldn't have done it alone."

"Thank-you just for being here," Will responded. He was struggling to remove his soaked shirt, his weary, strained muscles not quite up to the task. I helped him remove his shirt and shoes, before pushing him back onto the bed.

"Sleep," I ordered, "You need it."

"What about you?"

"I'll recover in no time," I insisted, "You won't. You need to sleep."

Too exhausted to argue, Will closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds. While he slept I used my powers to try and heal him. If I didn't he wouldn't be able to move in a few hours, his muscles having been strained to their limit. Myself, I had very little energy left, but I would heal. _My first obligation is to my assignment, my second to my Creator._ Nevertheless, I was soon forced to stop because I had nothing left to give. I was completely spent, and had no energy left to use my powers. I rested against the bed, and closed my eyes. I remained that way over an hour, conscious of the world around me, but too tired to move, almost too tired to think. I was motionless as the ache in my body began to subside and my muscles regained their strength. Still, it was probably two hours at the very least before I was of any use again.


	15. Scarring Weakness

My friend Robin, who reads my work, told me that she felt Sheba was portrayed as being too 'Holy', or too much above humans. I don't know if she's right, but she encouraged me to pursue a chapter like this one. The idea of this chapter is that Sheba is vulnerable, especially to the memories of her own past. I apologize if this chapter comes across as being romantic, which was not my intention.

This is also part of my efforts to form more of a friendship between the characters. :)

* * *

I came to myself before Will woke. Stretching as best I could, I dragged my body upright. Firstly, I finished the job I had started of healing Will's soon-to-be-aching-muscles. With the hours that had elapsed, some of the healing had occurred naturally, making my job a little easier.

I glanced out the window, finding the sun out, the storm having ended. I probed with my mind for anyone conscious. They were all asleep, save Jack Sparrow. He was still at the helm. I didn't know if he had left, slept, and gone back, or if he had never slept.

I found to some irritation that my clothes hadn't fully dried yet. Will was asleep, so I figured it was safe to wriggle out of my wet shirt and see if I could speed up the drying process any. My shirt had ripped open in the back, most likely from the stress of climbing. I wondered how long we had been up there; it had felt like an eternity. With a sky so dark, there was no way to tell.

To that end, how long had we been down here? I looked out the window again, finding the sun not far over the horizon; it was most likely six or seven in the morning. I pulled my shirt back on; it was dryer than it had been. Only now it exposed the backs of my shoulders.

Will groaned suddenly, and I moved to kneel beside him, "Will?"

"Sheba," Will moaned, "Am I dead?"

"Not yet," I replied, unable to not smile. Will sat up, reaching for my arm as he did so. I could see that, despite my efforts, he was still stiff and sore. I slid an arm under him to help him to his feet. "Are you all right?"

"What time is it?"

"Early morning," I told him, "Only Sparrow is awake, the rest are sleeping."

I turned my back on Will, who was donning the clothing he had taken off the night before, and again stared out of the window. I didn't know he was even looking at me, until I heard him exclaim in shock, followed by a demand of, "What happened to you?"

"I beg your pardon?" I blurted, half turning.

"Your back," Will said more quietly, taking a step towards me.

I reached one hand up over my shoulder, exploring the torn back of my shirt. I hadn't realized that it exposed my entire shoulder blades. Running my fingers along the edge of the fabric, I felt two raised scars on the skin of the back of my shoulders. My heart sank. "These?" I asked in a soft whisper.

"What else?"

I sighed mournfully, "I've had these scars since the world was born, Will. Don't worry about them."

"But what made them? A sword?"

"Dagger," I replied in a hollow whisper. Will was now standing behind me, brushing my hair aside and running his fingers over my skin. I shivered at his touch, never feeling comfortable with my body for having those two markings. One is blunt, just right of being directly between my shoulder blades, about as long as my shoulder blade. That one is a stab wound. The other runs from the center of my right shoulder blade to my left shoulder and actually out onto my arm. They form a rough sideways cross on my back. Will was being very gentle, and very proper, but I couldn't help but pull away as if it hurt. "Please," I begged, "Don't."

"I'm sorry, Sheba," Will replied, flustered, I knew he was only concerned that I was hurt, but…. "Please," he continued, softly, "What…what _caused_ these marks?"

I swallowed hard; I figured I owed him an explanation. "Around the time Earth was created, there was a war in Heaven; I fought, just like every other angel." I found myself trembling slightly as the memories of the war hit me; Will put an arm around my waist from behind in an effort to calm me, though I hardly noticed. "One of the…rebels, an angel I knew – once, stabbed me in the back, here." I touched the shorter scar. "And I fell to the ground, I was bleeding. He stood over me and pulled the dagger from my back. Before he left, he slashed it across my back, forming the longer scar." I felt hot tears spurting from my eyes, and moved hastily to wipe them away. "The reason the scars are so vivid, so blood red, whereas any other scars I have are white is because the blade that made them was forged in Hellfire." I paused, trying to compose myself, "It's hard to talk about."

"I understand," Will said soothingly, I felt his arm tighten; it took everything I had to fight an instinct to pull away from his odd embrace. I didn't want his sympathy.

"We all have our scars." I was trying so hard to sound strong, to appear to be firm, and failing miserably.

"We do," he agreed, "In so many ways." Will seemed to notice that I was uncomfortable and let go. "I have offended you," he said apologetically, "Forgive me."

"You didn't," I said quickly, too quickly. Will still looked concerned; I knew he was worried about what I thought. "I have difficulty…accepting sympathy, besides, that's _my_ job to extend anyway." I managed a smile, and Will smiled back.

"I thought that I was making you feel uncomfortable," he explained.

_You were_, I thought. Instead I said, "I don't usually receive comfort _from_ my assignments, I am there to comfort them."

"I will mind myself in the future," Will said, his voice was light, even humorous, but I could tell that it was slightly forced. He was still smiling, and I could see it was also forced. I had hurt him, by rejecting his efforts to make me feel better. I felt guilt sweep over me. Will, voice low, added, "I didn't want you to feel…vulnerable."

My brow knit in confusion, "Vulnerable to you? Or just in general?"

Will looked both shocked and hurt, I cringed. _Nice going, angel-girl._ "In general," Will said coldly.

"_I_ have offended you, however" I observed, though there was little need. **_Twice_** my mind spat at me. "I apologize."

Will was silent for a moment, before finally he started laughing, genuinely laughing. "There is an angel apologizing to me," he stated, "My world gets stranger every day."

"As if angels are so strange," I mock-argued.

"Well, I think you can be pretty strange."

I rolled my eyes, "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome," Will said, smirking. Then, he become serious, "I_ was_ trying to help you. If anything I did was improper…."

"I understand, Will," I interrupted, "You did nothing wrong. Even angels have their own demons, and mine are still strong, even after ten thousand years."

Will's brow creased, "Demons?"

"In a figurative sense of the word: painfully memories, and the like."

"Ah," was the only response I got, whether he didn't understand, or had no other thoughts about it, I couldn't tell. "But, you're all right?"

I started to nod, but stopped, and shook my head. "Honestly- no, I'm not all right." And I wasn't, I had not only the guilt that I had offended my assignment, who was trying to help, but the usual tangle of damaging emotions that rose from the mention things such as this. Will rested a hand on my shoulder, no doubt hesitant to extend sympathy after how I had treated him. "Thank-you," I whispered. I found myself fighting the urge to cry. Will seemed to be weighing his options for a second, before wrapping me in a hug – which I truthfully very much needed at that moment.

"We all have weaknesses, Sheba."

"I shouldn't, I'm supposed to be strong."

"If you had no weaknesses, you'd be perfect. I though angels weren't supposed to be perfect."

"No…we're not."


	16. Silver and Gold

Hello, again. This chapter contains a scene delated from the actual movie, where Will and Jack are spying on the _Black Pearl_. Enjoy, and I know you're all reading so please REVIEW!

* * *

A minute later (and after many apologies to Will for my lack of emotional stamina), we were heading for the deck. As soon as we entered into the morning air, we saw Captain Jack Sparrow, standing comfortably at the helm, steering the ship through the morning fog.

When Jack saw Will emerge onto the deck, he called out, "What you be doing out of bed, Mister Turner?"

"Same to you," Will replied, "Have you slept?"

"Aye, but Captain Sparrow doesn't need much sleep, m'boy."

Will shrugged, "I'll take your word, Jack."

"That's _Captain_ Jack, lad."

"Captain," Will said, a bit sarcastically.

Jack nodded and became quiet, he stared past Will out to the sea, he seemed to be remembering something very dear to him. His head continued to nod, as if of its own accord, but less of a nod, more of a roll back and forth on his shoulders, keeping perfectly with the slow, rhythmic roll of the ocean, his eyes never straying from the direction in which they were staring. His face was calm, and somewhat wistful, as if longing for the company of an old friend. One hand held his compass, the other gripped the wheel, and he continued to steer, but it was obvious that Jack Sparrow was in his own world.

Will had moved over to the rail, he was resting both hands on it and staring down at the water. If you stared at it long enough, without ever redirecting your gaze, it almost would seem like just the water was moving, and you were standing still. I stood beside him, staring out rather than down. "It's odd," Will murmured to me, low enough only I could hear, "This is the first time I've ever been on a ship, yet I feel so at home, so natural."

"People like you, or Jack, were born with the ocean in their souls." I said quietly, Will nodded, and neither of us spoke for a few moments, the silence rolled over us like the sea fog, heavy, but somehow harmonious.

Jack was the first to break it, "Will, mate," he said. Will looked up, partly from the surprise at being called by his first name. Jack motioned him closer.

Will stepped to stand closer to the helm, "Captain?"

"I need to know, mate," Jack said, completely serious, "When you made that decision to climb upwards yonder ropes, what was going though yer head?"

Will had to think about that for a moment before replying, "That I had to fix the sails before the strain made the other ropes give way."

"I see," Jack said, dragging out the words, "And the fact that doing so in a raging storm such as the one through which we were sailing could result in a fall meaning almost certain death?" he leaned in closer to Will as he spoke, opening his eyes about as wide as they could go.

"Meant nothing at the moment," Will replied, he gave Jack a bit of a smile, "I suppose you think I'm mad, along with the rest of your crew."

"I don't,"' Jack replied, he pulled himself up to his full height tipping his head back until he had to look down his nose to look Will in the eye, and rested one hand on Will's shoulder, "What I think of ye, lad, is that your father would be mighty proud of you." Jack smiled, before finishing, "As am I."

"Thank-you," Will said, somewhat astonished. Admiration was about the highest honor that Jack Sparrow could bestow on anybody.

"Now," Jack said, changing back into his normal self, "Go down below and wake them lazy dogs. We reach Isla de Muerta by sunset."

Will mock-saluted Jack, "Aye, Sir!"

The day passed without incident, the ocean was so calm and the wind so steady that very little effort was required by the crew to keep the ship moving smoothly. It was earlier than Jack had intended when we sailed into a passage, the high rock walls of which kept a permanent fog between them. Wrecked ships from the past decades filled the space. An underwater graveyard.

The entire crew was lined up along one side of the ship, either up in the rigging, or leaning against the rail. Will and Gibbs were the later, I was beside Will. Both of us were resting out forearms on the rail of the ship, leaning forward. The tension was high among the crew.

"Dead men tell no tales," Cotton's bird called out. Adding to the morbid atmosphere, which, I could sense, was tinged with an evil almost forgotten – except by those who still felt its touch.

I smirked, "You'd be surprised how many tales a dead man can tell," I informed it. Being an animal, it might have heard me, or it might have not.

"Puts a chill in the bones," Gibbs determined, "How many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage."

Glancing down, I saw ghostly shadows swimming not far below the surface. They were long and sleek, except for the heads, which were grotesquely elongated, and waved back and forth as the shadows moved silently. Hammerhead sharks. Hundreds of them. I knew they were not the vicious killers myth made them into; if you were not bleeding, you could swim among them unnoticed. But one drop of blood could send the lot of them into a feeding frenzy.

Gibbs tapped Will's shoulder and motioned him to follow. I followed close behind Will. He looked up at Jack who was still steering. "How is it that Jack came by that compass?" Will asked Gibbs.

"Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow," Gibbs admitted. "'Fore he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta." Gibbs moved around Will, checking the ropes, "That was before I'd met 'im, back when he was Captain of the _Black Pearl_."

This was news to both Will and I, and we both spun around, and stared in disbelief at Gibbs. "What?" Will demanded. Gibbs' eyes widened in an expression of _'I-should-not-have-said-that'_, "He failed to mention that," Will determined, looking towards Sparrow.

"Well, he plays things closer to the vest now," Gibbs explained, sounding exactly like Anthony. "And a hard leaned lesson it was." Gibbs continued, "You see, three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share - that should mean the location of the treasure too. So Jack gives up the bearings. That night, there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die, but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."

"Ah," Will said thoughtfully, "So that's the reason for all the…" unable to think of a word, Will instead did a very accurate, and amusing, impression of Jack Sparrow. I covered my mouth to suppress a giggle.

"Reason's got nothing to do with it," Gibbs told him. I giggled again. The older pirate sat down, "Now, Will, when a pirate's marooned, he's given a pistol with a single shot." Will sat down beside him, listening attentively, "One shot…well, that won't do much good hunting or to be rescued. But after three days of a starving belly and thirst, that pistol will start to look reeeaaaal friendly." He pointed his forefinger at his temple and there was no need for any further explanation.

I cringed at the thought, call me naive – it's true – but I can't understand why humans would want to take their own lives. It makes sense to them, at the time anyway, but to angels it's quite a mystery. Will wasn't looking too pleased with the idea either. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, turning my head slightly, I saw Jack Sparrow creeping up, silent as a cat, to hear their conversation better. I grinned to myself, but didn't inform Will. Gibbs was telling Will that Jack still had his one shot, and the murderous intention it held. Will posed a very good question, "How did Jack get off the island?"

Gibbs was only too delighted to answer, "Well, I'll tell ye," he said, leaning in closer and using his hands to try and illustrate his words. Will listened intently, "He waded out into the shallows and waited there three days and three nights, till all manner of sea creatures became acclimated into his presence. Now, on the fourth morning, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, lashed them together, and made a raft," Gibbs grinned, obviously believing the legend. I rolled my eyes a bit, it was indeed possible, I had heard stories of sea turtles rescuing sailors of capsized boats, but it was highly unlikely.

Will's eyebrows arched as he thought about that for a moment, "He roped a couple of sea turtles," he repeated non-believingly.

"Aye, sea turtles," Gibbs confirmed, his tone one of _'can-you-imagine'_.

Will glanced at me before he posed an even better question, "What did he use for rope?"

That one had Gibbs stumped, he opened his mouth to reply, but had nothing to say. He frowned and his lips pursed as he tried to construe a decent answer. By this time, Jack had come up right behind them, and chose the moment to interject another piece of the myth. "Human hair," Jack explained, "From my back," he then added, as if to make it more believable, however, it actually made it less. Gibbs smiled at Will, nodding, his expression clearly saying that he utterly believed that Jack Sparrow could stand, without moving, for seventy-two hours, and then lash a pair of sea turtles with a rope made from the hair of his back. Though I doubted the legend's merit, I gave Jack full credit for creating a very clever story.

"Let go the anchor!" Jack yelled to his crew, then to Will and Gibbs, "Young Mister Turner and I are to go ashore." Will looked more than a little nervous as we followed Jack.

"Captain," Gibbs asked Sparrow, "What if the worst should happen?"

Jack was quiet a moment before replying in a lowered voice, "Keep to the Code."

"Aye, the Code!" Gibbs returned.

Will watched as Jack and Gibbs moved off, he was rightfully suspicious at this point. Then, he turned to me and whispered, "You don't believe that do you?" meaning Gibbs' story.

"Hardly," I scoffed, "Jack has done amazing things, Will, that much is true, so when he does something mediocre, he dresses it up to make it another part of the mystique and myth of Jack Sparrow."

The boat was barely big enough for two, so I chose a different option. I climbed in beside Will as the boat was lowered, and then slipped out once we were in the water. Floating head and shoulders above the water's surface, I could swim in the same manner I could fly.

Jack knew where the _Black Pearl_ would be anchored and first rowed in that direction. He had taken the oars and made it clear, wordlessly, to Will that, ship or rowboat, he was giving the orders.

Jack brought the rowboat to a stop where we could see the _Pearl_, but, hopefully, where no one on board could see us. And even if they did, we had enough distance between us to have a good head start in running away. Jack peered at the ship through his spyglass.

"Is she there?" Will asked anxiously, looking over Jack's shoulder.

"No," Jack replied, lowering the glass. He sounded very worried.

"Where is she?" Will wanted to know, looking quickly from Jack to the _Pearl_.

Jack's mind seemed to have settled on a conclusion, "It's begun!" he determined, as he collapsed the spyglass and grabbed for the oars.

The entrance to the cave was sheltered by natural rock formations. Inside, the water was only about waist high. I walked along the bottom, leaning on the boat beside Will and using my weight to help push it forward. Will carried a lantern on a long pole which lit up the way we were going.

I kept shifting around uncomfortably as the feeling of accursed souls became stronger and stronger. Will looked at me in concern as my body gave a slight shudder – each and every one of my senses and instincts telling me to turn back, and being ignored. I waved it off and shook myself to get rid of the sensation. Will nodded.

Raising his lantern and squinting into the darkness, Will startled a fiddler crab on one of the rocks. However, the next thing on the rock was an aged and weathered skeleton, a rusted cutlass still jutting through its ribs. Will swallowed and touched my arm to get my attention, I followed his gaze and winched slightly. We were indeed in very hostile territory.

"What code is Gibbs to keep to if the worst should happen?" Will asked nervously.

"Pirate's Code," Jack said simply, "'Any man who falls behind, is left behind'."

Will frowned, "No heroes amongst thieves, eh?" he asked Jack.

"You'd be surprised," I hissed under my breath.

"You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates, you're well on your way to becoming one," Jack pointed out, looking at Will over his shoulder, I smiled, Jack was echoing my exact thoughts. "Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga…" while Jack was talking, Will's face registered somewhere between a frown and a grimace, he knew Jack was right, however, he was far from wanting to admit it. I was about to agree with Jack, when I stepped on something that almost knocked me off balance. Will looked over, and his lantern caught the gleam of gold. Coins, artifacts, even a gold cross which appeared to be Spanish in it's origins, lay on the bottom of the channel. Will started with wide eyes, he had never seen this much gold in any one place. Jack caught him, glanced down, and determined, "And you're completely obsessed with treasure."

It was at that moment that the rowboat ran aground. Will and I climbed up onto the shore and hulled it up far enough that it wouldn't drift away. "That's not true," he spat at Jack as the other man passed by, "I am _not _obsessed with treasure!"

I giggled slightly, Will was in strong denial, but now, I think it was more about salvaging his pride than anything else. I could tell that his opinions were changing, but Jack was going to be the last person he would admit it to.

Jack turned to Will, looking him dead in the eyes, perhaps the most serious we had yet seen him, "Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate."

I smiled, in eight words; Jack Sparrow had wiped away any distrust I ever had for him.


	17. Between Men and Devils

I apologise for the wait, but life has been hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Fate allowing, there will another soon.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cave was filled with treasures of gold, silver, and precious jewels. Greed obviously had Barbossa and his men by the throat. The chest filled with the cursed gold had been placed on an alter-like rock in the centre of the cave. Its very presence gave off energies of discontented evil. Barbossa stood up beside the stone chest, Elizabeth, clad in a violet gown, stood beside him.

The pirates who filled the cave gave my senses the feeling of looking into a great cloud of death. They were lifeless, and yet deathless, I blinked my eyes, trying to filter the information my senses were hurling at me. They were not alive, but they were not ghosts of any manner, because they had yet to die. And the only thing present where the soul should have been was a deep swelling of evil. They were somewhere between men and devils. In comparison, the life that was emitting from Elizabeth and my two seafaring companions seemed extremely strong.

Barbossa was giving a speech that put to shame all the efforts of history's greatest leaders and generals to rally their troops. "Gentlemen, the time has come!" Barbossa cried. His crew cheered.

Will was moving closer to Jack, with me trailing very close. Suddenly a caught a bit of energy from the spirit who was shadowing Jack. I opened my mouth to tell Will to go around to Jack's other side, when I felt her – I was pretty sure it was a her – brush past me and circle around Jack. I caught an air of strong annoyance and frustration from the energies that touched me. "Sorry," I murmured.

"Our salvation is nigh!" Barbossa cried out to his crew, who responded with an even louder cheer.

I rolled my eyes; _Salvation is the **last **thing you will be receiving_.

"Our torment is nearing an end!"

"Elizabeth!" Will whispered to me. He was barely restraining himself from dashing out there this minute. I rested a hand on his shoulder to calm him. One glance at Jack said he was plotting something fiendishly clever. Will was planning too, and I had a strong feeling they would clash before we got out of here.

"For ten years we've been tested and tried and each man jack of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times over, and a hundred times again!" Barbossa shouted; his crew's shouts and cheers hit their crescendo.

"Suffered I have!" cried one of the pirates, his high, whiney voice reaching us over the noise.

Barbossa gestured to him as he continued, "Punished we were, the lot of us, disproportionate to our crimes!"

"Hardly," I determined, catching Will's attention, "Wait until what they find out what Hell really is." Will gave me a slight nod of agreement.

"Here it is!" Barbossa bellowed. With one shift kick, he knocked the lid of the chest clear off, Elizabeth jumped back to avoid being hit, "The cursed treasure of Cortez himself!" he walked the length of the chest, running his fingers through the gold. Barbossa scooped up a handful of gold coins and let them fall back into the chest. "Every last piece that went astray, we have returned. Save for this!" the statement was punctuated with a dramatic gesture to the last piece of Aztec gold hanging from Elizabeth's neck. Another deafening roar went up from the pirates.

"Jack!" Will exclaimed, attempting to scale over the rock wall that hid us and rush to Elizabeth's rescue, sending golden coins clattering down the rocks. It took Sparrow and I to hold him back.

"Not yet," Sparrow said knowingly, then, in more of a whisper, "We wait for the _opportune_ moment." He began to move around the cave to where he could see the proceedings better. Will followed him, and I could see in his eyes that he was going to challenge Jack.

"881 we found," Barbossa continued in the background, "But despaired of ever finding the last."

"When's that?" Will snapped, "When it's of greatest profit to you?"

Jack froze, jaw and fists clenched, he seemed to be telling himself '_I-will-**not**-lose-my-patience-I-will-**not**-turn-around-and-put-the-whelps-lights-out_' no matter how dearly he'd have liked to. I was impressed with his ability to hold onto that last nerve that Will was working on. "May I ask you something?" he said, calmly as possible, he stepped right up to Will, until the blacksmith moved backwards nervously, "Have I _ever_ given you reason not to trust me?"

Will didn't have an answer for him.

"Do us a favor," Jack pleaded, moving back a tiny bit. Will still looked uncomfortable with the lack of distance between them. "I know it's difficult for you," Jack continued, make gestures with his hands in effort to emphasize his words. "But please stay here, and try not to do anything…stupid." With that he turned back around and continued creeping away.

Will started cursing under his breath. Barbossa was asking his crew whether they had paid their sacrifice to the 'heathen gods'. I sighed and put a hand to my forehead. If I had the ability to get headaches, I would've had a killer migraine. "Will, listen to him, please."

"He's not here to save Elizabeth; he's here to settle a score for himself!" Will hissed at me.

"He gave you his word," I argued, following Will as he began following Jack.

Will spun around at me so suddenly that I took a reflexive step back, "He's a pirate," Will said, as if that made his accusation perfectly acceptable. I groaned inwardly, I was losing any and all patience with my assignment. Before I could do anything about it, however, Will had found a boat oar. He moved to take it from where it was resting against the cave wall, but I beat him to it. I held the oar against the wall with one hand, and motioned Will back with the other. "Are you going to stop me?" Will demanded.

_You know it has to be his freewill_, my conscience reminded me, _you can't make him do, or stop him from doing anything_. I sighed heavily and released my grip on the oar. Will glared at me, grabbed it, and took off after Jack. I trailed behind; knowing the outcome of this would not be good.

"Begun by blood," I heard Barbossa say, "By blood undone."

Jack Sparrow was peering around a large rock when Will caught up with him, he was about to step out from behind it when he either heard or sensed Will's approach and turned to face him. His eyes went wide when he saw the boat oar Will was wielding like a club, but before he could react, Will struck him on the head, knocking the unfortunate pirate unconscious.

"Sorry, Jack," Will said, tossing down the boat oar, "I'm not going to be your leverage."

"If you're going to ride in a white stallion, Will, now is most defiantly the time." I motion to Elizabeth; Barbossa had her bent over the chest, making it look as though he planned to slit her throat. In his hand he held a golden dagger.

"Elizabeth," Will whispered, and began working his way in the shadows to get behind her and Barbossa. I followed him.

I watched as Barbossa placed the coin in Elizabeth's hand, and sliced the palm of her hand with the knife. She jumped at the shock of the pain, but otherwise didn't react. Elizabeth looked at him in astonishment, "That's it?"

"Waste not," Barbossa replied, smiling. He was holding her hand shut in a fist, he released his grip, and Elizabeth's hand opened. The gold piece, now stained with blood, fell on top of its fellows. And nothing happened.

I was still trailing Will as he worked his way closer and closer to Elizabeth, even when her blood entered the chest, the evil remained. The men were still hollow: no life, no souls. Barbossa and his crew were all standing, waiting for some indication they were now human.

"Did it work?" one of them finally asked.

"I don't feel no different," observed another.

I sighed, "The Devil's thirst remains unquenched," I muttered, "So what went wrong?"

Barbossa decided to test things by pulling out his pistol and shooting one of his men in the heart. Except that the man didn't die, he didn't even seem to feel the shot. This sent the pirates into a riot as they realized the curse had not lifted from them.

Barbossa was contemplating the blood-stained blade. Then he whirled to face Elizabeth, "You, maid! Your father, what was his name!" When he didn't get a response, he grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders and shook her, "Was your father William Turner?"

"No," Elizabeth sneered.

"Then where is his child? Where is the child that sailed from England eight years ago? The child in whose veins flows the blood if William Turner? Where?" Barbossa had reached a state of almost frenzy. He grabbed the blood stained coin from the chest and shoved in Elizabeth's face as he spoke.

Elizabeth still didn't answer. She gave Barbossa a sort of smile that said that she knew, but that she wasn't going to tell him. Barbossa, furious, backhanded her hard. Elizabeth lost her balance and toppled backward down the rock she was standing on, Barbossa dropped the cursed coin and it landed near her. The pirates started arguing as to why Elizabeth's blood was not enough.

"Now, Will!" I instructed and the two of us slid into the water. Elizabeth was lying on the edge of the rock, Will and I silently swam closer to her. Will surfaced and placed a hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't cry out. Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw him. Will signaled her to be quiet and follow him. Elizabeth nodded, then, with a sudden thought, reached back and grabbed the medallion before she slid into the water. I surfaced, gliding just above the water, in order to keep an eye on the cursed pirates.

"You brought us here for nothing!" One of them shouted at Barbossa.

"I won't take questioning or second guess, not from the likes of you, master Twigg," Barbossa shouted back at him.

"Whose to blame here?" another pirate called out, "Every decision you've made has led us from bad to worse!"

Will, Elizabeth and I had successfully made it to the entrance of the cave, where boats were waiting. As we made our break for freedom, I heard one pirate shout out, "It was you who sent Bootstrap to the depths!" I looked at Will to see if he reacted at all, but Will didn't seem to hear him any. Will helped Elizabeth into one of the boats, taking all the oars from the other boats with them as they left. Before Will could push the boat out, I grabbed his shoulder, "What about Jack?"

"He can take care of himself."

I contemplated going back for Sparrow, but there would've been little I could do by myself, save getting into trouble. Will was already in the boat with Elizabeth, rowing out. Elizabeth was holding her injured hand. I sighed; Jack didn't have much of a choice. I hovered into the air and followed Will and Elizabeth.

Will glanced back over his shoulder as he rowed towards the _Interceptor_. Elizabeth was pushing the stolen oars out of the small boat one by one. I saw Will hesitate for a moment, as if he were considering turning around. Then he shook his head slightly and rowed on. Jack Sparrow's fortunes were based on a balance of cunning and luck. Hopefully at least one of them would save his skin.

When we were right up against the Interceptor, a rope was thrown over for Will and Elizabeth to climb aboard. Elizabeth went up first, with Will and I following her. When she was on board, Elizabeth saw the crew standing all around her. "Not more pirates," I heard her say as she recognized their status.

Gibbs stepped forward, "Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth."

"Mister Gibbs?" Elizabeth asked with an air of recognition as Will and I climbed over the railing beside her.

"Hey, boy, where be Jack?" Gibbs demanded Will.

"Jack?" Elizabeth echoed accusingly, "Jack Sparrow?"

"He fell behind," Will replied emotionlessly, he took Elizabeth gently by the shoulders and guided her down below. I hesitated, watching the crew.

Gibbs stared for a moment; I could see that he seething quietly, and then realized that the crew was looking at him for instruction, "Keep to the Code," Gibbs ordered. Anamaria began giving commands. Gibbs stared back out towards the Isla de Muerta; I felt he could tell that Jack had not simply 'fallen behind'.


	18. No Ill Will

Wow. It's been...a month easy. I hate school. It eats my writing time. HELLO! Finally a new, really short, chapter. I have a creeping feeling of typos hiding in my work. Don't be afraid to point them out if you find them. Other than that, enjoy, while I see how in blazes I'm going to find time to write the next chapter.

* * *

Once we were down below, Will started tending to Elizabeth. I could stand aside at this point because I wasn't really needed. Will explained the situation to Elizabeth, as much of it as he knew, anyway.

"What kind of man trades a man's life for a ship?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Pirate," Will said simply. Elizabeth was fighting with the bandage she was trying to put on her hand. "Here," Will said, touching her wrist to stop her, "Let me."

"Thank you."

I was standing behind Will, content to be as good as invisible for the time being. Will wrapped the bandage around the wound on Elizabeth's hand. "You said you gave Barbossa my name as yours," he said to her as he did so, "Why?"

Elizabeth turned her gaze from him, "I don't know," she answered.

Will went to tighten the bandage, and Elizabeth gasped and pulled back. "I'm sorry," Will exclaimed, "Blacksmith's hands--- I know they're rough."

"No, I …I mean yes they are, but…" Elizabeth stammered. Will carefully tied the bandage, and clasped her hand between his. "But don't stop."

Will stared at her a moment, as if wondering if he'd heard her correctly. I smiled, and leaned my weight back against the pillar is standing by, letting them have a romantic moment. Elizabeth leaned in across the small table. Will leaned towards her, as if he were going to kiss her. "Elizabeth," the next words would've been, 'I love you', if she hadn't stopped him.

Elizabeth pulled back slightly; Will's hand on her shoulder froze. Elizabeth grasped his wrist and guided his hand down her neck. Will's brow furrowed. Elizabeth pulled from her dress the pirates' medallion and held it up so that it caught the candlelight. Will stared at it in complete recognition, taking the medallion in his hand.

"It's yours," Elizabeth said quietly, pulling the chain from around her neck. Will continued to stare at it in wonder.

"Thought I'd lost it the day they rescued me," he said, "It was a gift from my father…he sent it to me." He smiled for a moment, then it faded, "Why did you take it?" he asked Elizabeth, a bit more harshly than was necessary.

"Because I was afraid that you were a pirate," Elizabeth told him in a grieved voice, "That would have been awful."

The words seemed to cause a revelation for Will.

"The problem," I murmured to myself, "Is that it's true."

"It wasn't your blood they needed," Will said quietly, admitting the truth as it dawned on him, "It was my father's blood, my blood," he closed his fist around the medallion and clenched it so hard he might have drawn said blood, "The blood of a pirate."

"Will, I'm so sorry," Elizabeth pleaded, "Please forgive me."

Without a word, Will slammed the medallion onto the table, as if hoping he could make it go away and be gone forever. Elizabeth searched for something to say, and finally just stood up and left. Will watched her go sadly, but knew better than to call her back. They both needed time to calm down.

"Will," I said quietly, moving from my position in the shadows to stand beside him.

"What, Sheba?" was the harsh reply I was met with.

"She doesn't deserve your anger, Will. She was trying to protect you." I circled around him to sit where Elizabeth had sat moments before. The now-self-realized-pirate glared at me.

"You knew all of this all along," he accused.

"I knew of your father, yes, and of what you are. But the blood debt is as much news to me as it is to you," I stated matter-of-factly, "I'm willing to help you put the pieces together, Will. But you need to be too."

"The picture's far too clear already," Will replied. He got up from the table and began to pace like a caged animal.

I remained silent several moments, carefully choosing my next words. There was no gentle way to say what had to be said, however. "Is it really her you're angry with, Will? Or me? Or even your father? Or are you angry with yourself and letting us all feel the weight of your anger and denial? And what of Sparrow?" My anger was taking over my judgment, but it was somewhat needed, "He didn't fall behind, Will! You left him to die!"

"Sparrow got what he deserved," Will returned, but he didn't sound totally convinced, "He was a pirate."

That was my last nerve gone. I rose from where I was sitting and got in Will's face, which wasn't that easy because Will was physically much taller than me. "So are you!" I all but screamed.

Will was very controlled for him. He stared at me, saying nothing, then walked back to the table and slouched back onto the up-turned crate he was using as a stool. "Yes," he whispered. Will picked up the medallion and started absentmindedly playing with it. Again, there was silence some time before he spoke. "I mean Sparrow no ill will, Sheba. But I…I have a plan, and he…he would just make it harder." I cocked my head in confusion and motioned for him to continue. "I left the trail of oars as breadcrumbs, so if he got out, he could find his way to us, or at least to where we had been. I thought he'd figure it out from there. I…I hoped that all the credit he gives himself would prove true. Jack's like a fox: clever, cunning, and crazy." That made me laugh slightly, and Will brightened for a moment. "I pray he's all right," he said softly.

I stood over Will's shoulder as he spoke, then lowered myself to one knee so that our eyes met. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"You would've tried to talk me out of it."

"Yeah, true, but it's not like I would've succeeded," I replied, shrugging one shoulder. Will chuckled. "Tell me your idea," I asked him.

"If you agree not to start screaming at me, again, I will."

I returned to where I'd been sitting before and made a gesture as if sealing my lips together. Again, Will chuckled, and began explaining his idea to me. I could see that he'd learned well from Jack, and that he was grateful to not have to learn so many things the hard way.

I was no longer as concerned as I had been, especially when Will explained that rescuing Sparrow had been a part of his idea from the start. All our buccaneer companion had to do was avoid death until we could get to him. And, after all, this was Captain Jack Sparrow we were talking about.


	19. Last Breath?

Hello, and no I have not dropped off the face of the Earth. I can think of some people I'd like to drop off the face of the Earth right about now... Anyways. Finally, an update. Hope you like my new piece of work. This chapter had to be improvised a bit, becuase there is a great deal of this scene where we aren't really sure what's happening to Will. Hope you enjoy. And post REVIEWS!

* * *

"How angry do you suppose she is?" Will asked me, referring to Elizabeth and her rather sudden departure.

"Not very," I determined. Will and I were still below in the hold, "She loves you."

Will lit up like a Christmas tree, "You really think so?"

"_Angel_," I said simply, mimicking Sparrow.

Suddenly, sounds of action reached us from above. "What the…" I started, but there was no point in expressing the thought. We both knew exactly what, not who – what, it was.

"Oh no" Will determined as we both scrambled to get on deck.

Once topside, we discovered that everything that could possibly weigh the ship down was being jettisoned in order to make the _Interceptor_ lighter so she would go faster and be able to sail through shallower water. Only the skimming of the question through my mind provided the answer of whose idea this had been. Will soon voiced the same question.

"Who thought of this?"

"Elizabeth," I replied calmly, with a slight smile. Will smiled briefly before making his way to the rail and using one of the cannons as a step to climb up on the deck, holding the rigging for support. I floated up beside him, needing nothing to stand on nor any support. We could both see there was no way we could outrun the _Pearl_. She was running out her sweeps – wooden oars normally used either to propel the boat forward, or to act as a rudder. However I knew of another purpose for sweeps – one that spelled out trouble for us. At the top of her mast we could see she was flying pirate colors – the black flag with a skull and crossed swords.

One of the members of the crew moved to unlatch and jettison the cannon Will had used to climb up. With a slight glance, Will stopped him. "We're going to need that."

The expanse of water between the two ships was deceasing alarmingly fast. "There's no point in trying to run away," I said to Will, "We fight or we die." I left off the end of my thought, which was _'maybe both'_.

Will gave me one quick sharp nod of understanding, leapt down from the rail and made for the helm where Elizabeth, Anamaria and Gibbs were gathered.

"Gibbs!" Will yelled as we approached, "We have to make a stand! We have to fight! Load the guns!"

"With what?" Anamaria demanded, not used to having her command questioned.

"Anything. Everything! Anything we have left," Will insisted, leaning right up into Gibbs' face.

Gibbs thought it over for a moment, then turned "Load the guns!" he hollered to the crew. Anamaria looked as if she thought the entire crew had finally lost their minds. "Case shot and langrage," Gibbs instructed, "Nails and crushed glass!"

Elizabeth smiled admiringly at Will. He lingered a moment, watching her. Searching for the words he needed. When he couldn't find them, he turned and leapt to help load the cannons.

We loaded them with anything that could potentially cause damage. Anything heavy or sharp enough to do harm when fired. The guns were loaded with silverware, nails, bullets, and even the guns they were for.

"This could do more damage than you'd think," I was saying to Will as I helped him pour shards of window glass into the guns. "We'll cover a wider area with each shot, and everything we're shooting is so small that it'll be going pretty fast when it hits."

"It won't be enough" Will said.

"But it's something," I replied. The look of resolve came back to Will's eyes, he gave another brisk nod that said '_then lets get back to business'_, and we continued to load our rather strange ammunition.

Back on the helm, we watched as the Pearl's sweeps hit the water. "The Pearl's gonna luff up on our port quarter!" Gibbs yelled, "She'll rake us without ever presenting a target!"

"Lower the anchor on the right side!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Everyone, including Will, stared at her as if she were mad, "On the starboard side!" Elizabeth tried.

"It certainly has the element of surprise," Will agreed. I grinned, that it did.

"You're daft, lady!" Anamaria exploded, "You both are!"

"Daft like Jack!" Gibbs determined. I could sense everything he didn't say. Jack's 'daft' actions had led to victory over and over. Sometimes the craziest seeming idea is the best one. Gibbs shouted to the crew to lower the starboard anchor. The crew stared at him, "Do it, you dogs," Gibbs threatened, "Or it's you we'll load into the cannons!"

The anchor was let drop, and when it caught, the ship was pitched violently. She almost capsized. This was because Anamaria was still holding tight to the wheel. "Let go!" Elizabeth screamed to her. Anamaria let the wheel go and stepped back. The _Interceptor_ righted herself and clubhauled. Now our guns were pointing at the _Pearl_, while she was coming at us, guns pointed away.

The _Pearl_ swung hard to port until we were side by side. Through the openings for the guns, the pirates jeered and cursed each other. Will and I distributed guns among those on deck. "Keep up a steady mast" Will instructed Gibbs.

As we all tensed for the coming battle, where we were seriously outmanned and outgunned, Will turned briefly to me. "Sheba, you're with me through this, right?"

"Of course," I replied, feeling, oddly, slightly wounded that he would think I would abandon him in the midst of battle. I put a hand on Will's shoulder, willing confident energy to him. "Of course."

When the two ships were directly across form each other, Will gave the signal, "Now!"

"Fire all!" Elizabeth shouted as loudly as she could.

From the other ship I could hear Barbossa command his men to do the same.

The cannons roared, and sent up thick clouds of choking, suffocating smoke. Our improvisational ammunition worked better than I'd thought it had. The outside of the _Pearl_ was soon speckled with spoons, forks, shards of metal, and other such things. The idea of broken glass also interesting because it shattered further on impact and if it should hit anyone, could do potentially fatal damage. I was thinking that, until I suddenly remembered we were fighting no mortal enemy. Our weapons would do nothing, not even if we had a hundred properly loaded cannons. The accursed men might sink to the bottom of the ocean, but they'd still be 'alive' in a manner of speaking.

Will and Gibbs were shooting at the _Pearl's_ men with muskets, "We could use a few more ideas, Lass," Gibbs told Elizabeth.

"Your turn!" Elizabeth retorted.

"We need us a devil's dowry!" Gibbs declared.

Anamaria grabbed Elizabeth from behind and held a pistol to her head, "We'll give them her!"

Will stopped and turned, for a second I thought he might seriously be considering the idea. Elizabeth seemed to share my concern. "She's not what they're after," he said finally.

Elizabeth suddenly realized something was amiss. Her hand flew to her throat, "The medallion…"

I cringed; we had left it down in the hold. Without a word spoken, Will and I were on our feet and making for the hold. Will jumped down first and I glided after him.

The hold was already ankle-deep in water. The combination of the clubhaul, plus the battering we were suffering had turned it into a war zone. Stepping around and over debris, Will found the table, but it had over-turned. He struggled to move it; between the two of us, we managed to throw it aside. Will shuffled through the milky-coloured water, searching for the medallion. It could have flown anywhere. We both knew we'd never find it before the battle was lost.

Suddenly a cannon blast tore through the wall. I barely had time to scream, "Get Down!" as I pushed Will face-first into the water. Above we heard a sickening crack, like a bolt of lightning. The ship pitched as if she'd been knocked off balance. Another crash, from the _Pearl,_ followed only moments later, I knew what it was.

"Our mast," I informed Will as I helped him back up.

Will gave a short of cry that almost sounded like that of a wild animal, partly from the news, and partly because a lantern had shattered and thrown oil in his eyes. Then looked at me in desperation. We were going to lose this battle. We had already lost it. All we could do was keep firing until we had nothing left with which to load the guns, and pray.

Will was still searching for the cursed gold. "Will," I said, shouting to be heard over the water that was pouring in, "We have far greater things to worry about." Will turned to me to demand an explanation, but before he could make a sound, I pointed at out only exit. The explosion had knocked timbers directly up against it from both sides. We were trapped, and the water was coming in fast.

Will made his way to the hatch, "Help!" he yelled. But the pandemonium on deck was so great that no one could hear him. "Hey!" Will shouted, "Help!" he grabbed a piece of fractured timber and began banging on the hatch roof. "Help! Below!"

I knew what was going on above; pirates from the _Black Pearl_ had boarded the _Interceptor_, with intent to send her to Davy Jones Locker. I had to get Will out, now.

Within thirty seconds, we were swimming in water over our heads. Then we heard a chattering sound. Looking over, we saw Barbossa's pet monkey holding the cursed medallion. Will swam after it, but it climbed through a hole in the roof far too small fro a person to get through. As the creature disappeared, Will let out several deeply-felt curses so powerful I actually felt myself blush.

"I should drown here," Will told me, gasping for breath in what little space there was to take air in left, "There'd be no blood, no way to ever end the curse. It's what the bastards deserve."

"True, but what'll happen to Jack and Elizabeth if you die here?" I questioned him. "Keep fighting, Will." I received a bit of a nod, before Will went under.

I dived after him and hauled him to the surface, or what surface there was left. I helped him to the hatch, where there was more space, and more air. Then we heard Elizabeth's voice, "Will!"

"Elizabeth!" Will shouted back.

Elizabeth struggled to move the timbers trapping us from the outside, as Will and I strained against the ones inside. "I can't move it!" Elizabeth shouted down to us. Just then several pirates laid hands on Elizabeth and started to drag her off. "No!" Elizabeth screamed, fighting as best she could in their iron grip, "Will!"

"Elizabeth!"

We continued to hear Elizabeth screams a few seconds more. Will called her name over and over.

The water was still rising when we knew we were all alone on a sinking ship. Will took a deep breath and dived under, still pushing desperately at the debris that blocked our escape. No matter how hard he pushed, it was fruitless effort. Soon, he needed air.

When we came back up, there was lonely a sliver of space left. Will pushed his face up to the wooden grate of the hatch and gulped as much air as possible. As Will dove, I lingered, filling my present, yet unneeded, lungs with air. I had one idea left.

Once we were underwater, it was obvious there was no way to go back up for air. In truth, almost as soon as I submerged, the hold was completely filled with water. Will struggled against the wooden timbers, holding his last breath as long as he possibly could. Suddenly he exhaled it all at once, the pressure having forced it out of him. I realized the water wasn't just going up, we were going down. Will began to convulse slightly. I hesitated a moment because a part of me really didn't want to do this. I grabbed Will by the shirt to hold him still, and forced my lips onto his in what can only be described as a kiss. The shock made Will's mouth open slightly, which was what I was after. I forced all the air from my lungs into his before pulling back. Will shook his head and gave me a look. But he now had lungs full of fresh air, and began his efforts again.

Suddenly, I got a flash of information in my mind's eye. Including the flame burning slowly closer to the pile of gunpowder. I was also given what I needed to do.

"Will!" I shouted, exercising use of my ability to speak legibility under water. He looked at me, his last breath of air starting to run out; I held out my hand, and he took. I started swimming downward, towards the bottom of the hold. Will followed my lead. Then pulled back, hands going to his ears. The pressure. I'd forgotten. I floated in front of Will, unable to think if I even knew any way to ease the pressure. We had to get down to the bottom. In my mind I could see the flame burning steadily. It was like watching the second hand of a bomb clock tick down. And when they reached the end, the result would be the same.

Will was struggling to swim downward, but the pain he was being caused showed me he could never swim all the way down. "It's just a little farther, Will," I pleaded. He gave me a look, still sealing his hands over his ears, and shook his head.

We had seconds left, if we were lucky. I swam up above Will, who was still struggling to make even a few inches farther down. And hurled myself hard into him hard at the exact moment an earth-shattering explosion rocked the ship. There was a blinding flash of light, then darkness.


	20. Survived, Captured, Maybe Doomed

Welcome back. Thanks to all of you for sticking around so long. The brief dialogue overheard by Sheba between Jack and Elizabeth is from the origional movie script. I think they should have left it in, so I did. This chapter is slightly long, and changes have been made that haven't been fully proofread, so I apologize for any overlooked errors. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

The darkness was because we were actually in rather deep water. The explosion of the ship had pushed us downward. Because so much of her was already underwater when the gunpowder blew, the explosion had been rather contained. Will was fighting for the surface, still struggling to hold his breath. I swam over to him in fast, smooth strokes.

When I first touched Will, he pushed me back, then realized who I was and allowed me to take his shoulders to pull him towards the surface. I had no idea where we were in relation to the remains of the _Interceptor _or to the _Black Pearl_. I hoped we would surface unnoticed.

Will wasn't even swimming anymore; he was staring to fall unconscious from lack of oxygen. I pulled him up to my level, and then pushed him upwards. He would float the rest of the way to the surface faster than I could swim. I trailed behind, kicking my legs together like a dolphin's tail. We broke the surface together.

Will gasped for air, grabbing my shoulder to keep afloat. I analyzed our position. We had come up alongside the _Pearl_, but the force of the explosion had been so great, we'd been knocked clear under her and come up on the other side. Will was in little condition to move at that exact moment, so we floated a few seconds to let him catch his breath.

"You, Sheba," Will gasped, "Have a distinct talent for saving my life."

"You, Will," I replied, "Have an even more distinct talent for getting into trouble."

"It wasn't until I met you that it became this apparent," Will pointed out. We both laughed.

We found ropes dangling down the _Pearl's_ side and Will began climbing up. We could hear Elizabeth screaming topside, which made us go even faster. We reached the deck unnoticed. Elizabeth was struggling to get free from the arms of Barbossa's crew.

"Barbossa!" Will yelled, gathering the attention of all present. The evil pirate captain turned to look at us, and I felt myself shrink back on instinct. I immediately shrugged it off and straightened myself to my full height, reminding myself that there was no way he could do anything to me. Will leapt from the rail we were standing on and seized the nearest pistol, aiming it at Barbossa. "She goes free!"

The threat and demand didn't even faze our adversary. He began walking closer. "What's in your head boy?"

"She goes free," Will demanded. He threw me a worried look. His plan was similar to this, but it had been thrown into action far quicker than we had been quite ready for.

Barbossa continued advancing, "You've only got one shot, and we can't die."

Will looked apologetically at Jack. Jack whispered "don't do anything stupid". We were about to do something that was going to seem stupid, on account of it being a part of something much larger and more thought out.

With another brief glance at me to make sure we were doing the same dance, Will leapt back up to the railing, steadying himself with the ropes. "You can't," he echoed, using the gun to gesture to the crowd of soulless pirates, before pointing the gun under his chin, "I can."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elizabeth struggle to get free. Jack's mouth formed the words "like that". I chuckled.

Barbossa was now curious as to why Will would think he'd be concern if he died. "Who are you?"

Jack immediately tried to save what was left of the situation. "No one! He's no one! A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew twice removed. Lovely singing voice, though." He added something too soft for us to hear, but I could guess at what it was. I gave the back of his head a smoldering glare before rolling my eyes at his attempt to discredit Will.

Will, however, had a plan and he wasn't about to let it be interrupted. "My name is Will Turner!" he announced loudly to the entire ship, "My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner! His blood runs in my veins!"

Jack stopped speaking and slipped back to where he had been before, I had a feeling he was longing to be invisible at that very moment.

"It's the spitting image of old Bootstrap Bill come back to haunt us!" came one pirate voice from the crowd.

"On my word, do as I say," Will threatened, knowing he had the upper hand, "Or I'll pull this trigger and be lost forever to Davy Jones' Locker!"

Barbossa realized that he had one shot to bargain what he wanted. "Name your terms, Mister Turner," he declared confidently.

"Careful, Will," I warned, "Be very specif…."

"Elizabeth goes free!"

_Oh well, so much for that. _

"Yes, we know that one," Barbossa said, and something in his tone made me have to suppress a laugh. "Anything else?"

Jack Sparrow was making completely indiscrete gestures to himself. Will and I were both fully aware of what he wanted, which was for us to name him captain. However, we needed him close to Barbossa, without making Barbossa suspicious. Sparrow was of the greatest use to us right where he was. Will removed the pistol from its position beneath his jaw just long enough to indicate our crew. "And the crew. The crew are not to be harmed."

Jack looked positively mournful, sort of like a neglected pet. Will was purposefully not looking at him, trying hard not to seem as if he had any loyalties to Jack Sparrow. I hadn't given Will enough credit as an actor.

Barbossa spent a long moment sizing up the situation. "Agreed," he determined finally. Will leapt down from the rail and grasped Barbossa's hand in an iron grip. I thought to myself that Will was far too used to dealing with honest men – where a handshake was as good and strong as any contract.

Barbossa's crew was so distracted by the occurrences that none of them had thought to keep their hold on Elizabeth. The instant she realized she was free, she raced to Will, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest and pressing herself to him as firmly as was humanly possible. Will looked a little shocked, he looked to me for a cue, I just smiled. Will put one arm around Elizabeth and steered her over to the railing. Elizabeth settled her head against his shoulder, for her, the world was bright for a moment. I was sorry because I knew it wouldn't last long.

The small island was only a speck on the horizon when I knew I had to tell Will something about what was going to happen. He was sitting on the rail, with Elizabeth asleep on a barrel next to him, her head resting at his hip and her long hair spread across his leg. Will was staring out over the seemingly endless expanse of water, his thoughts, like the sea, carrying him far away. I touched his shoulder for attention, and he turned to me, careful not to disturb Elizabeth. His eyes probed mine for answers to questions he didn't know how to ask. I found myself speechless momentarily, not knowing how to begin.

"Will," I finally voiced, "You know Barbossa won't keep his word."

"Pirates have a code," Will replied, "They must honor a deal once they've made one."

"That much is true. But you left holes in the contract, and they will find them. Devils' deals need to be made with caution."

"And how much would you know about dealing with the devil?" Will retorted, as if I were as young as I look.

"A lot." I turned my head, to see the island fast approaching, "and you're about to find out some yourself."

As soon as we were too shallow to go any farther, Barbossa had his crew drop anchor, and extend the plank. Two of his pirates tore Elizabeth from Will, and forced her out onto it. She stood carefully on the flimsy piece of wood, and seemed to be trying to figure her way out of this mess.

Will was knocking pirates in all directions as he fought his way closer to Barbossa. Before he could reach the pirate captain, however, strong arms pinned his and a hand was at his throat. "Barbossa, you lying bastard!" Will shouted at him. Elizabeth turned at the sound of his voice. "You _swore_ she'd go free!"

Barbossa turned to us, with an irate stare. "Don't dare impugn me honor, boy," He retorted, "I agreed she'd go free." The stone look turned into the grin of a shark going in for the kill. "But it was you who failed to specify when or where." One of the first, and most improper, thoughts in my mind was _'I told you so'_. A gag was forced into Will's mouth, and he was roughly moved away from Barbossa, though where he could still see Elizabeth. I moved with him, keeping a hand on his shoulder to remind him I was there. I purposely elbowed a few pirates along the way.

"Though it does seem a shame to loose something so fine, don't it lads?" Barbossa prompted his crew, who agreed. "So I'll be having that dress back before you go."

Elizabeth's eyes burned with hatred, I knew that she was considering leaping off the plank in that dress just so that he couldn't have it back, but a memory of the day on the cliffs made her think otherwise. It was the better plan to get out of the dress. She removed it quickly, and hurled it at Barbossa with all her might, not thinking about her balance on the plank. Barbossa caught the garment in one hand. "Goes with your black heart," Elizabeth sneered, though her harsh words had no effect.

"Oh, it's still warm…" Barbossa chuckled, bringing the dress up to his cheek. He tossed the dress to some of his crew, who instantly took to fighting for it.

"How the –" I caught myself and bit my tongue to keep from cursing, "How would you know? I know bloody well you can't feel a thing!" I also knew full well that Barbossa was trying to aggravate Will, and that it was working. Will pulled against his captors and tried to shout around the gag. I tightened my grip on his shoulder to restrain and calm him.

Elizabeth looked at Will, and realized he couldn't get her out of this situation. She turned back to the edge of the plank, contemplating her fate. Turned to glance at us again….

"Too long!" one of Barbossa's crew determined, he stomped his foot on the end of the plank, making the whole thing shake and vibrate. Elizabeth lost her balance and fell rather ungracefully into the warm Caribbean waters.

Jack was pushed towards the plank; his hands were bound in front of him. Jack, being Jack, tried to talk his way out of it. "I'd really rather hoped we were past all this," he said to Barbossa in a false comradely manner.

"Jack, Jack," Barbossa said in a similar tone, wrapping an arm around the other pirate. I saw Jack squirm uncomfortably, "Did you notice? That be the same little island we made you governor of on our last little trip."

"I did notice." Jack replied. How could he not?

"Perhaps you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape." Barbossa told him.

I stopped listening at that point. I was so focused on Jack and Barbossa that I had almost stopped paying attention to Will. He had taken to standing quietly, occasionally jerking away from one of his captors when they got too close for his comfort. He was staring towards Jack, trying, I figured, to get the pirate's attention. Jack, it seemed, was being careful not to look at him. I looked in Will's eyes, and saw something I had never thought Will would show for Sparrow – apology. He was sorry that Jack was in this situation, and that he could do nothing to help it. That he had, in fact, brought it about.

A pistol and cutlass were brought for Jack, and more dialogue exchanged. I heard it as white noise, I was so focused on my assignment, and on the emotions I realized now in him, that I was more than a bit oblivious to the rest of the world. I barely registered the pistol and cutlass being thrown overboard, but I did see Jack as he dove in after them. I also sensed his 'friend' dive in along with him.

When Jack disappeared over the side, Will put up another bit of struggling, but was quickly subdued and forced below deck, with me trailing at his side. He was placed in a cell and the gag removed; Will spat the taste of the filthy cloth from his mouth. The crew from the Interceptor was all crowded into the other cell, with only room for them to stand. The way the cells were designed, there was one spot you could sit in ours, and not be visible from the other. Will sank down to the wooden boards, and drew his knees up to his chest like a scared little boy. I sat beside him, letting one hand rest on his arm. Will bit his bottom lip against a sob of both sadness and total frustration, dropping his head to rest on his knees. I put both my arms around him. "We all have our weaknesses," I said softly, echoing the words he had spoken to me the morning after the tempest, when a recollection of my own past brought me to the point of tears. Will leaned against me, as the tears began to come.

It took only a minute or so for them to subside again. Will sighed and pulled away from me, resting his back against the wall, closing his eyes. I remained motionless, and waited for him to speak. Will dropped his head to his chest and brought it back against the wall, hard. Then he stood up and began pacing restlessly, like a caged lion. Used to the freedom of the deck of a ship, he felt far more confined than he would have before the past few days. I could tell he was trying to plot a way for us to escape.

While Will was engaged in his thoughts, I probed around for the minds of Jack and Elizabeth. I was too far away to be able to see them, but I found their thoughts and was able to hear what they were saying to one another. "Has it changed since the last time you were here?" Elizabeth asked Jack.

"The trees are taller," Jack replied in a bored sort of voice, sounding exasperated to the breaking point by what I could imagine had been a constant stream of questions he did not wish to answer. I severed my connection; I doubted there was much to be learned there.

Will paced until sundown, when the crew propped themselves against the walls, bars, or each other and fell asleep. Only then did he stop, and come to sit with me again. He began beating the back of his head against the wall. I sighed a little, "Will…."

Will continued banging his head against the wall. "You can keep doing that, Will. But all you're going to get is a headache."

"I just don't understand how I could've been so stupid," Will murmured, finally stopping. "And now, Elizabeth is trapped with Sparrow on that God-forsaken island, and we're here."

"Sparrow will care for her, Will. He promised. And I know he'll keep his word." I leaned forward, giving my assignment no choice but to look at me "Trust me." Will nodded, and a lapsed into silence for a brief while.

"By the way, Sheba," Will added, I turned to look at him, "About the…" he gestured to his mouth.

It took a second for it to dawn on me. "Oh, yes," I shrugged, "Saving your life." What was I supposed to say? I felt myself flaming with embarrassment.

"I thought it meant I was going to die."

I shook my head, "You'd be the one exhaling," I told him, before realizing what I'd said. _Oh, brilliant_.

Will gave me the strangest look, "excuse me?"

I licked my lips nervously. "The last breath carries the soul, and an 'angel of death', so to speak, draws it from the body."

"With a kiss?"

"Sort of."

It isn't really a kiss, all the angel has to do is get quite close and inhale the breath from the dying person. But it wasn't worth confusing the issue in order to try and explain that. It happens quite quickly, so quickly in fact, that humans don't actually see it happen. The body is alive until the last breath is released.

"Does it hurt?" Will asked suddenly.

"No," I shook my head, but failed at the encouraging smile I was trying to achieve, "No, it doesn't hurt."

Will nodded, "Can angels tell when people are going to die?"

"If we're supposed to collect the souls, yes. Or if we see the Collectors. But there aren't hourglasses running out over your heads or anything like that." My description made Will grin a bit.

"If you knew someone was going to die, would you tell them?"

"Not unless I was supposed to, and why are we talking about death?"

Will lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug, "I know I'm going to die ending that curse."

"What makes you think a thing like that?"

"I just know, and…" he paused, "I'm worried Elizabeth might…" he couldn't even say it. He just looked at me tearfully.

"Elizabeth is well looked after with Jack Sparrow there," I said confidently, "She'll be fine." Again, I worried I was making promises I couldn't keep. I placed my hand on his head, "Sleep, Will." He instantly fell asleep, going limp against me. I eased him off me and propped him against the wall. Then the ship rolled and Will fell back on top of me anyway, pinning me to the wall with both arms trapped in such a way that I couldn't move them. I sighed, _great_. After several attempts to wiggle out from under him, only to find the position I was in too awkward, I gave up with that approach. I considered using my ability to loosen my energy enough to be able to move through the wall, but doing so always left me with a sick feeling. I opted against it. I did my best to shift into a comfortable position, and let Will sleep as he would.


End file.
